dubious ink

[Handley_Page]

I once knew a man from Nantucket . . .

Oops, wrong thread.

Molly, I think you are probably the only one to get away with that.

 

[The_Fool]

No-one reads my sentences
the way I wrote them down.

No-one hears my words
just how they sounded in my head.

No-one gets those little details
no-one, only me.

I wonder, is that sad,
or art;
is that just ‘Poetry’?

Going back and rereading my stuff I often say to myself "Did I really write that shit?" Sometimes it is good shit and sometimes it is bad shit.

I get a visual picture, sometimes a movie in my head and I write about it. Except sometimes that movie is not on the channel I started watching.

 

[The_Fool]

Conversations with Vella La La

Heart me!
Heart me!
Then we wait for smiles
and laughter.
Who can make the loudest kiss,
can squeeze the tightest,
can make the most “heart-you” emojis.
The “I love you most” conversation
Can go on for hours,
skip a week,
start over.
It’s not who says it last
or least
or lustiest.
The words have no meaning,
the conversation says it all.


>>>>Lurve you Vella...Keeses<<<<<