Friday, July 10, 2009


where do they come from?
I walk down the street
or sit at a bar
a coffee shop
or a busy bus stop
here they come
there they go
battalions of beauties
in short skirts
or tight jeans
in summer dresses
or flapping blouses
their faces so gorgeous
their smiles so friendly
their breasts and their asses!
and their legs
which strut along
or cross over one another
when they sit
pumping the valves of desire’s heart
a girl walks by
in a backless shirt
and what a back!
a terribly lovely golden tanned back!
I trip and almost fall to the ground
I catch myself on a telephone pole
and run away
grown men
should be crying on the street corners
banging their fists against the sidewalks
throwing bricks through storefront windows
clutching their heads
wringing their hands at the sky
there should be riots in the streets!
the girls of summer
they are too much
there are too many
I can’t think with my brain
my heart chokes me
I fall in love daily and nightly
hourly sometimes
I take a deep breath
and look the other way
but there are more
and those are more beautiful
I am reduced to a gasp of breath
and a machine gun heartbeat
I can see their bikini straps
beneath their clothes
sweet lord!
I should get onto my motorcycle
and drive into a wall
no amount of suffering
no amount of physical pain
can be compared
to the torment of desire
but wait!
take it easy, young man
hold your breath and close your eyes
for in a matter of months
they will have become ghosts
lost characters
in dreams you cannot remember having
and you will hole up all winter long
rubbing your hands to stay warm
watching your breath meet the frigid air
lying around alone
beneath the covers
wondering where, oh, where
are the girls of summer now?

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