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Updated: May 7

(insert name here) was her name.

The oxygen & the hearth

to my zodiac flame.

Mon one-in-a-million Cajun Dame

W/ a spicy mirth and smile

T’thaw even the most icy-clawed crocodile,

Blushing in a rush t’crush down his obelisk

Of bro-man-dude-thing masculinity, his fingers crossed she’d linger

Just a smidgen longer, lost in the religion

Of her Ziggy Stardust pizzazz; the brisk,

Scat-singin’ jazz of her laughter

cleansing the jejune lesions of the soul.

The soft solace of her gaze

oft the only lighthouse among Life’s haze.

Not a day passed

We weren’t having fun —

Holly jolly love llamas

lollygaggin’ in the Mississippi sun.

Hakuna Matata. No drama t’preach,

Sippin’ on our cheap two-dollar gas station

piña coladas

on Biloxi beach. Outlandish as Easter Island statuettes

Standing in awe on the edge of the world

W/ all its catastrophe behind us; our peacock feathers unfurled

& our skin… O our skin electric off Freedom’s mojo in the air,

Feeding loquacious seagulls our crumbs

as they’d strut their bums

along the teasing tide

Clawing out t’where the mermaids would surface

W/ their inquisitive eyes —

“What kind of ooey-gooey enigma is this?”

They’d wonder. “Their intimacy tells no lies.”

Guitars, radios,

Cigs and beers,

Lights along the bridge,

Kisses on the piers.

Those would be “the days” —

Our cosmic kitties all a purring

W/ tails alluring in a sway, &

Our cameo in the interstellar flic

We call Love picture-perfect as the Titanic,

Where I was Jack, and she was my Rose,

And despite all the dangers we’d be exposed,

I’d never let her go.

We could spend an eternity

gallivanting from all evil.

And when we’d grow bored of the land,

We’d waddle into the sea hand-in-hand,

Diving down to the depths of its floor

Where entranced we’d slow-dance forevermore.

Memories I’ll never forget.

Romance I’ll never regret.

I miss you…. Whoever you are.



*featured in the #34 summer edition of The Evening Street Review out now on Kindle or you can read it for free on SCRIBD*

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