Posted by Atticus on July 1, 2005, at 12:11:30
Hazy watercolor washes
In tints of muted blue,
Ozone-scented orgasm,
A storm’s electric hue,
Steam rising from asphalt,
An afterglow long due,
Oily puddles underfoot
For the romantic few
Who trod amid the lovers,
As spires and hot rain flew
Into a frenzied passion,
And what else could I do
But let it sluice o’er me
As the thunder groaned, “I do,
I do love your flashy,
Trashy talk,” but the city knew,
And sculpted foggy tributes,
Vapor monuments that blew
Across slick streets sodden
With the sky’s kiss, so true.
poster:Atticus
thread:521962
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20050621/msgs/521962.html