Buxom blonde early morning
homeroom of infatuation
long held open and followed

the steeple stairwell we crawled up
cracked in this dream thirty years later
suggesting something we were

about to accomplish her kisses and hugs
also woke to a mirage
of Lilac Adder the details forgotten

but not pain, which is why I never expected
the gardener’s daughter at the bar
would so soon present fellatio

in a theatre parking lot sometimes
a small world: “that chubby chick,
the one in the kitchen” is perplexed

magic isn’t crisp news travels
I know have been only blocks from
my first sushi and plum wine

Poem from Long Stemmed Roses in a Shattered Mirror
copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodsons