A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Monday, June 03, 2024

Tricolore.

true story cut
from bolts of what

was once whole cloth,
okay? this one time
how it happened: I

met this latinate
senorita, and
I was like "hun, hey 
how's that hot
-blooded stereotypical
temperament
treatin' ya? GOOD!"

I paused
like a champ

"looks like?" I shyly 
averred, if averred 
is the word: it is.

(second sense)
and she
laughed, laughed! because
she had a good and better sense
of humor the further in my dumb ass
line of bulbous, drupelike words
struck her
deep,
but
a little off!
so. pity laugh! 

cool. I can ken it. part
scots, don't cha know and we
were like chi chi chi
and cha cha cha but

it didn't end! up working out,
somehow, her in the front 
burning my cool enchilada, 
dumping so called hot stuff 
on it vigorously pounding it 
in my face and down my throat 
so, yeah.

pathetic 
kind of so
then one time,
with this irish lass,
real irish! None of your
false irish, not this one
time I arched a brow and

"said"

something to the effect
of "kiss me you're irish!"

only far, far more fetching
and clever somehow

(there was drink involved)

and she tasted of Becks
not Guinness which was fine

but I had to draw the line at Bushmills
that's for protestants

then this brit, well
she sure did have a thing
for that thing that the british
have things for, all 
hanging out covering 
their mouths with fetching 
milkwhite angel hands 

because there's all this shit in her teeth! 
no 
no 
oh ye gods 

it's dental work! good job 
ye gods oh I'm so sorry but
she and I
kidded her about
that a bit, you can be sure

she had the most adorable
mouth in every way, so that
I almost hated for to see that
tight, lipped, self conscious

smile

hiding something for breakfast
we had bangers and cheerios

which went together, well,
about as well as 
as you'd suppose

when that other bitch 
her husband showed up
the cur! The cur who had 

made his wife 
bolt and then laugh 
so hard a breakfast best 

left for the italians to mop
and cleanse like 

you 
know

servile dogs! bolting 
and wolving their own 

"dog's breakfast" 

off a French licked 
flag we all know 
was merely on 
deck to tie 

the world
together

once. 

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