Wednesday, February 20, 2008


Who knew a flaky little tart
could be so damn acerbic
to shrivel an absorbent heart
with venom—

but reservations soon depart
when teased by fruits endemic
as she practices her deadly art
in denim.


ozymandiaz said...

Your words, dear sir, bring visions to mind, familiar visions.

Stacey said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Stacey said...

Your poems really intrigue me Bob,
Thank you for your comments you left me on my Blog,I'ts good that we are all unique as I think if we weren't then we would live in a very boring world, dont you?
Keep intriging me with your poetry.

Stacey (p.s I have added your site as a link on my blog)

Sorry I deleted my comment before by mistake-was having few computer probs but now sorted!

Anonymous said...


rch said...

mmmmmmm mmmmmmmm good! ;)

writerwoman said...


The Phantom said...

I've met her and in spite of what she's done I love her still. This poem captures what my friends all tell me I should feel. Nicely done!