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deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Ride to Reno
They heard she was a poet
who shocked the open mic
Friday nights with tight skirts
and loose words
that slid off her teeth
over her whiskey breath.
Truck drivers,
who rode hard,
daily listened
for orgasmic screams
and honking horns,
came to see her. They
balanced on rustic chairs,
drank Rum and Cokes,
and hoped she wanted
a ride to Reno.
She heard they were drivers
with sharp eyes and taut loins
beneath blue denim.
She didn’t mind
weather beaten beards,
calloused hands or that
they would leave in the morning.
She was a poet who
gathered words from interludes
among pillows and sheets that
aroused tomorrow’s verse
of wanton words and rapping rhymes.
who shocked the open mic
Friday nights with tight skirts
and loose words
that slid off her teeth
over her whiskey breath.
Truck drivers,
who rode hard,
daily listened
for orgasmic screams
and honking horns,
came to see her. They
balanced on rustic chairs,
drank Rum and Cokes,
and hoped she wanted
a ride to Reno.
She heard they were drivers
with sharp eyes and taut loins
beneath blue denim.
She didn’t mind
weather beaten beards,
calloused hands or that
they would leave in the morning.
She was a poet who
gathered words from interludes
among pillows and sheets that
aroused tomorrow’s verse
of wanton words and rapping rhymes.
Published 14th Oct 2012
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14th Dec 2012 2:59pm
Great wording--first I pictures her at a coffee shop doing spoken word then the trucker line cam in and it took me to a seedy bar--but the vision of her didn't change..she was there...and she was good!
"She was a poet who
gathered words from interludes
among pillows and sheets that
aroused tomorrow’s verse
of wanton words and rapping rhymes."
"She was a poet who
gathered words from interludes
among pillows and sheets that
aroused tomorrow’s verse
of wanton words and rapping rhymes."
