Nice cool breeze

I sit here
breeze stroking me
cool
through
windows
shattered with paint chips
typing this poem
and I can’t figure out
why
I should wear clothing
or boxers
it’s humid
and the breeze is only
a secret
not the wind storm
I would wish for
to hell with my pants
oppressor of my
balls
I am too old and worn and careless
enough
to not care if my gut
hangs low
or my missing
ass
fails to fill my
big-ass
jeans
the beer’s in the frig
pot in the drawer
and the clunk clunk clunk
of late night trains
open for buddy guy’s
sweet guitar
and I can feel the cool
breeze
tickling my
balls

this is good

J. Masuda © 2004
art
233 views 1 replies
Reply #1 Top
This made me chuckle...in places I didn't know I could laugh....ahhhh.