It Is The Baring Of Wild-Eyed Tensions

Missed hair-curls and pucker-mouthed girls. Quit fooling sweet labels with wet-me licks.

Look here – Look here – Look here. Follow my throat – my cleared pipe.

Smoke just for me but wipe the resonator; make the sound of furls and lemon-drop shapes. Go ahead, grab it, strike it and spare no giggles.

Sweet tasting girls; pucker-mouthed gumdrops and cherry lips. Where do you store it? How do you feel me with feathered hair or with warbled throats?

Gosh my pets, it is the baring of wild-eyed tensions – so much to push and shove, to pull back and be pushed forth.

And the verse rests in open palm, “He that sacrificeth unto any god, save unto the Lord only, he shall be utterly destroyed.”

Play tunes and march backside – scream baby cry me down. Look here – Look here – Look here. Follow my throat – my cleared piper.


2010 Barry Comer

This entry was posted in beat poetry, bible, devil, Drug Abuse, God, Gypsy, Hope, jack kerouac, Poetry, prayer and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.