Maureen Thorson
What's Your Number?
Snaggle-Toothed Andrea drove
Me crazy, but she was classic
Mayport, another girl coming into
Whatever sexiness youth doles
Out and with no one at home who
Loved her enough to keep her
From splashing it round. In the
Meantime, she was crude, she
Made rough jokes while being
Too eager to please. She was ripe
For abuse, sitting there like
The finish line at the end of a race:
You know people are going to cross it,
Just not who's gonna get there first.
3 Comments:
damn, that one's good.
I totally didn't notice this poem was here and now I am totally dumb.
Did I like this? I did!
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