It occurred to me that I have not yet written you a poem. Surely you would like the sweet incantation of the written word to play daintily in your ear holes.
The key to a key lime surprise is
Not surprisingly: keys, jingling in the pockets of men
Surly bellies and wide moustaches ordering
Around cellulite wives in Pennekamp Park
The key to the surprise is lime coloured
Not for the old wrinklers, elastic lime tightens around the
Chicken legs of boys not yet sprouting chest hair.
Jelly in the water, key lime
Flagella riding out the tides away from the
Flailing kid slapping water with his shovel.
Surprise sinks. A ship
Parading coral blooms brightly
Competing with flowered bikinis.
A Key Lime surprise is in the mouth, tart
Glow in-the-dark green.
Crunchy graham crust, pucker up lips
Sunburn surprise, lime aloe to
Cover the sting of a day of duplicitous sun
Melting off my shoulders and into the
Down the drain till sunrise.
What, you expected an
a b a b rhyme scheme (I stand corrected) internal rhyme scheme or something? I tell ya, William Shakespeare might like a good rhyme scheme iambic pentameter, but William Carlos Williams would consider it highly constrictive or even asphyxiating. I like the latter William better.
Stay tuned for Masterpiece Theatre at ten.
PS—I didn’t take a picture of the speedos, because it would have appeared that I was interested in the lads wearing them. Which is false and illegal. But mostly false. And illegal.
PPS- I wonder what Travis would look like in a speedo?
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