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deepundergroundpoetry.com
ITINERANT LOTHARIO
In the gutter
lining the main street
of this sleepy town
tiny waves crest
on the surface
of a puddle of rainwater
the result of vibration
caused by a throaty
motorcycle engine
that, like a fanfare,
announces his coming
As if choreographed
house lights turn on,
shades open
in perfect synchronicity
with his slow progress
to the village square
he stops and dismounts
the mechanical steed
sauntering to a nearby market
he purchases a single,
large red apple
he brings the sweet orb to his lips
bites and sucks its juice
As if mystically summoned
women gather around
lovingly greeting him
grasping at his leather jacket
running their fingers
over his faded blue jeans
hoping that with a mere touch
they will be cured
of their loneliness
he says nothing
and begins his swagger to the bench
by the fountain
of the now crowded plaza
He rises to his feet
perched on the bench
surveying the estrogen
laden throng
tosses aside the apple core
removes his mirrored sunglasses
revealing piercing blue eyes
from inside his jacket
he removes a well-worn,
leatherbound book of verse
clearing his throat
in his sonorous baritone
he begins to read his poetry
Each word is lapped up
by the frenzied listeners
every stanza
a sensual candlelit feast
prepared, of course, for two
some moan their approval
others are brought to tears
by each sumptuous passage
finishing, he closes the book
the sound of pages
crashing together
elicits mournful cries
from those assembled
He steps down
replaces his sunglasses
and silently
begins to stroll
back to his waiting Rocinante
the roar blasting
from the chrome exhaust pipes
shocks awake
the mesmerized sistren
the enchantment broken
they, in one voice,
shout “DON’T GO!!”
oblivious to their pleadings
he speeds away
his saddle bags full to bursting
and his pockets overflowing
with telephone numbers
he will never call
lining the main street
of this sleepy town
tiny waves crest
on the surface
of a puddle of rainwater
the result of vibration
caused by a throaty
motorcycle engine
that, like a fanfare,
announces his coming
As if choreographed
house lights turn on,
shades open
in perfect synchronicity
with his slow progress
to the village square
he stops and dismounts
the mechanical steed
sauntering to a nearby market
he purchases a single,
large red apple
he brings the sweet orb to his lips
bites and sucks its juice
As if mystically summoned
women gather around
lovingly greeting him
grasping at his leather jacket
running their fingers
over his faded blue jeans
hoping that with a mere touch
they will be cured
of their loneliness
he says nothing
and begins his swagger to the bench
by the fountain
of the now crowded plaza
He rises to his feet
perched on the bench
surveying the estrogen
laden throng
tosses aside the apple core
removes his mirrored sunglasses
revealing piercing blue eyes
from inside his jacket
he removes a well-worn,
leatherbound book of verse
clearing his throat
in his sonorous baritone
he begins to read his poetry
Each word is lapped up
by the frenzied listeners
every stanza
a sensual candlelit feast
prepared, of course, for two
some moan their approval
others are brought to tears
by each sumptuous passage
finishing, he closes the book
the sound of pages
crashing together
elicits mournful cries
from those assembled
He steps down
replaces his sunglasses
and silently
begins to stroll
back to his waiting Rocinante
the roar blasting
from the chrome exhaust pipes
shocks awake
the mesmerized sistren
the enchantment broken
they, in one voice,
shout “DON’T GO!!”
oblivious to their pleadings
he speeds away
his saddle bags full to bursting
and his pockets overflowing
with telephone numbers
he will never call
Published 7th Mar 2014
| Edited 13th Feb 2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 8
reading list entries 1
comments 16
reads 1681
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
7th Mar 2014 1:26am
Luv the clever and very visual piece. Fantastic! Enjoyed this story very much. :)
7th Mar 2014 4:50am
7th Mar 2014 1:19pm
no one tells a story the way you do, your images are so vivid i can reach out and touch them. bravo.
7th Mar 2014 8:48pm
Thank you so much, Mia! I love reading short stories and hope to be able to write a bunch myself. Thank you for your inspiring words :)
1st Sep 2014 8:51am
You know, the stories which arise imagination, which make you forget of your present surroundings, are the most valuable ones. This vivid piece was able to arise my expectations at the imaginary sound of the motorbike engine, made me long for being within the listening crowd ... Can I give you my number :-)? Loved it! Btw, the pic's great, too :-)!
When I saw that you are a biker I thought might appreciate this piece. I'm not brazen enough to be the dude in this story. I really had fun with the imagery. Thank you for reading the piece and for your lovely comments.
I like the pic because it looks like he's riding out of a fog at dawn.
I like the pic because it looks like he's riding out of a fog at dawn.
1st Sep 2014 9:21am
Sure I appreciate this piece but not only as a biker but also as a poetry lover since it is so very well crafted :-). As to the pic: It is absolutely lovely to ride from dawn to dusk :-). Those colors are so soothing.
Anonymous
4th Oct 2016 10:48am
My good god... thank you for this. Visions of this creature is so precisely penned. I could almost smell him. Definitely saw the smirk. Brava to you my dear. Finding room on the RL.
✨Always peace Trish
✨Always peace Trish
4th Oct 2016 5:57pm
Anonymous
1st Feb 2018 9:51pm
It can be hard to bring stories to life to the extent that the reader truly feels, sees and almost smells the characters - you’ve done exactly that here :)
A very relatable story too.
A very relatable story too.
1st Feb 2018 10:03pm
Wow, that is high praise coming from you! I really enjoyed writing this one and I can still remember the process.
6th Apr 2018 11:14am
Oh this is great ... add me to the sisterhood swooning and stuffing my number in the saddlebag ... *sigh*
6th Apr 2018 11:44am
Anonymous
20th Mar 2019 10:56pm
<< post removed >>
21st Mar 2019 8:27am
Thank you so much Arianell! I had a lot of fun writing this this piece. I am glad you like it.
16th May 2019 4:31am
Truly enjoyed this read that never goes out of style. Could be any mode of transportation, from horse to future mind melding and the intent remains.
