Hungry for a complete thought,
a rhyme leading to reason.
Skipping clever paired words
and all allusions
which don’t settle my palate’s lust
for a tight stream of thought.
Missed rendezvous with sexy maiden,
to play, to frolic in idle image.
Driven Corvette, chewing gas to end in a dry desert.
Longingly looking back at a bellowing, sad oasis.
Play a while, the clock melts
dripping through slated clean vents.
- Author: Sabio Lantz, 10/08/10