Beautiful, Sweet thing
hanging from my neck
like a chain
a bee sting in July,
a growing pain.
In a dream I sweat
we wed in the tropics
cross-eyed and tongue-tied
at the thought of your lips
my thoughts are doing the hokey-pokey
don't slap me silly, slap me serious
I need to get a grip
I have a devil harassing my hips
I'd melt like a mint, in the heat of your mouth
Hurricane in a blouse headed angrily down south
raining fabric off our backs
the umpire called three strikes,
and only now are we finally going out