You're funny! Not as funny as the time
we went to the gay bar and watched
the drag act set off a toy cannon
which had, as his performance proceeded,
slowly drooped until its mouth
was level with the audience. "That
will teach queens to douse in hairspray
on a Friday night", you said. I burned
your hair, once, when we played
with candles and ropes. In those days
we used to play twice a day: we'd pounce
each other for instant gratification.
Nowadays gratitude comes in tea bags
and interrogations. I should have given
you up a decade ago, but somehow we found
a slow burn that keeps us chuckling still.
Friday, April 06, 2007
NaPo 07 #5: Joy
'kay. So I'm running late with the poems. Sue me!