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a bit of surreal poetry

P

philbo

Guest
Corkscrews in my mind, and I titled the poem
by Phil Selbo

Lilacs on my handlebars, and I was loved.
Line drive to left pasture, and I loved her back.
A pen that couldn't write, and I was teased.
Fire on the Winston, and I lied with all honesty.
Rye mixed with gin, and we danced.
Tarzan in my dinner, and I took her home.
Flag drooped at half mast, and I had second thoughts.
Christmas lights in June, and I waited by the phone.
Too many items for the express lane, and our eyes fell apart.
Parking ticket on my windshield, and I was not loved after all.
 
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