Sang-Froid

1 min read

watching, rising, the tepidity of her thigh
this high-noon temperature tantrum
long-legging out the day in a twice-mortgaged
two half-acres.

I shirr…she radiates sun shimmies
that lap her wavy like, liquid,
lingering and out of focus
a clear case of filigree fever

my cool now toast I beat a tepid retreat
to the shallow end of the gene pool
dew point and desire having done in
my sang-froid

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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