Monday, 27 August 2007

Butterflies by Karl Powell


She was winking instead of thinking, blinded by bright lights, llama bars and late nights, had to stop, had to talk, took a taxi, couldn't walk, barefoot dancer, cheeky chancer, honey mermaids, horny milkmaids, Subi howling serenading, no moon listening, no way back, hit the north, hit the road jack, perfect meaning, perfect meeting, two worlds kissing, fire and water, hissing steam, just keen between and keep it clean, those big brown lips lick and preen, coming close, coming far...starts to ride, gotta drive, moon comes up, fires up, busting up, suit up front up, up top up town, gotta ride windows down... pull up to that bumper baby, and drive it in between.


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