VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, [3], 4 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 05:00:10 07/31/01 Tue
Author: Sarah
Author Host/IP: 166.82.51.18
Subject: A Rapist on the Loose



Nearby the parking lot, a dozen shafts wispy with daylight offers
cheery Moonies selling red loves, a day late in the sun and wind
defected by gaps from greenhouse effect; singsongs of sexual rain
or do they play violins? My eyes turn flat under concrete
close to the children’s blind school, where the light drops by half
and comes reversed again when I walk too close to a high car.
One crack head soars and tailspins gapes at Graceland Library.
Elvis still drugged with sleep is seeking a smitten princess.
He thinks he’s God in white caddy exposing his penis, hell-bound.
But, walking too close shades eye’s ride that shafts wispy daylight
offers remain dangerous. Like seeking out a sleep drugged Elvis.
The smell of blueberries oozing from the heat allow Cicadas
near the library, to insist on total eradication of sound.
But, NBC tapes the next airing of 6:00 news, a scary tale,
true account of a man who’s raped five local women all over
neighborhood libraries where Moonies sell my love a day late
in the sun and wind and this family man now lives behind bars.
(I’ve seen him around, mowing his backyard, playing ball
with his children, walking with his wife who lives close by.)
He’s described and named by the NBC news and paper
I found this morning on my daisy-flecked yard, still green.
My girlfriend talked of his wife, also described and named,
gulping her vodka tonic. “She’ll never be the same.”
We looked at his picture and talked of being sorry for his wife,
and red, red lipstick, but kept other secrets. Last week, a man
I can’t forget said he felt the same, in this library parking lot.
(I’ve kept this secret and gave this fact a rest since then.)
My mind’s cobweb watches the light play on heated passion,
twisted floss cleans rain rushes on moves deranged minds made.
That man’s eyes shone lonely, and I’ve walked back there every day.
A rapist, or a princess looking for an Elvis who might return a kiss?
Graceland’s library parking lot is now empty and outshines lonely
lips that remain wet with red, red lipstick which I never wear at home.


[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

Forum timezone: GMT-8
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.