Author Information
Poor Boy
Folder:
Poems From the Road Poor boy,
Destined for seminary school,
Spending his summer days
Lazily
Sitting in French cafes
Hitting on rich widows.
The Monday bustle
The Cafe Verlet
Once quiet,
Has become an animated caricature
Of Brightly colored brocade
And fancy silk scarves .
Motorized scooters for the debonair.
The cloying scent of French parfum
Bettered by day old bread
And body odour.
Where are the gods of tits and wine?
While we sit
Waiting
Dying on the vine.
The Gods of tits and wine
are hanging out with the Goddesses of dicks and gin. Songs. Tough writing lyrics. slc
Yes
or Penis And Guiness, if you prefer, Allets
Great write
Great write
*~Be Legendary ~ Ian Mascoe*
Thank you for your read
I appreciate you checking it out.
Hard not to read this over and over again.
Cleverly written and subsequently impressive as hell.
Thank you.
It means a lot to me that you were able to enjoy this.
You are extremely talented, and your praise is my prize.
Sorry for the delayed thank you.
same frame....
you've idealistically transported me to where I sense the aromas
and blatantly hit me with reality - intuition of similar souls
"While we sit
Waiting
Dying on the vine"
"Waiting." I understand this
"Waiting."
I understand this too well.
I feel like I'm waiting everyday for a change, for something to happen.
Waiting for the monotony to end.
Waiting
we’re all waiting for something or someone.
Thanks for the read & sorry for the late reply!