Like swimmers at a beach club
by David Lawrence
[ poetry - september 10 ]
You are a crackerjack and a pistol.
Wherever you go I hear snap, crackle and pop.
At twenty a black hooker said
To me that her pussy was filled
With rice krispies.
I didn't know you then.
You have no reason to be mad.
I put you on my tongue so that
I can speak of love.
I dove into the pool so that I could
Splash the recumbent old ladies
On their chaises.
I think that one day you will be one of them.
I will want to tease you with water.
I will want to grow old in your scoop.
We will be together forever like
swimmers
At a beach club.
