He said he didn’t know what he liked better
my stories or where the holes were in my pants.
We drank dollar margaritas and our memories
shot back to when were lovers.
We were goofy and laughed more than we’d ever
laughed with anyone. Holed up during the LA riots,
we drank. Trying to numb out the rivers
of hatred and desperation burning in the streets
below and wondered if we were all going to die,
a good reason to drink some more & eat a great steak.
This was before cell phones & texting & computers.
The streets were on fire with racial incineration and
kerosene hatred. We were hypnotized by the theme
song from Twin Peaks and tripped in and out of playing
house and whose ATM machine we could rely on.
We were cuddly and precocious and cut from the same
cloth. Except he needed to be mommied and I needed to be
daddied and we could no longer pacify each other.
Our playpen could no longer contain us
and the babysitter with no notice
up and quit.
All Rights Reserved
© 2010
The Juice Bar 
A burst out in shivers prose poem leaving us careless at the tip of a rocky eminence.
I love phone snaps……..They have a ring to them!!
Mighty fine poem as well I might just add!!! More Phones please
More phone snaps just for you Mitch! If one rings, I’ll know it’s you! 🙂
…yes, it all comes back to me with terror and glee, the rum and the martini, the gun-shy affection, Miles and the candles of desire…
They say that a picture paints a thousand words: I think you just reversed that.
Thank you, my gentle men…xoxo LK 🙂
Sitting here reminiscing now … Twin Peaks … no cell phones … another world.
I know, can hardly relate to the pay phone…ancient history, and all those germs!! How did we do it??? LK 🙂
Fantastic… I love this!!
Thank you my sister!! LK 🙂
All of us looking for mommies and daddies at some point. And a pay phone…where in the world… 😉