Author Information
scoundrel
i want to write a poem
about how your lips are
exotic like red peppers
but what do i know
i want to finger paint
red and pink kisses
on your nude canvas
but there is a reason
why the pope thinks
we need five more
mysteries on the rosary
and you are number four
if i create a poem
it is only a device to ramble
on to the end, with images
of your wicked pleasure
like it is a ploy to say
i am writing a poem
when really
i am dancing on the sentiment
of your dancefloor
where kisses flicker
off a disco ball and
your lips are the drums
making slaves pull the oars
towards desire
on the viking ship of pleasure
in the land of erin
where not only am i a scoundrel, but
the lowly red pepper farmer as well
