The Heart of Heat (poem/rated R)

The heart of the heat is upon us in SW Florida, when the natives come alive, albeit with beads of sweat on everything from toenails to forearms, just from walking to the mailbox. A good daily detox if you walk, work or play in the great outdoors.  When the gulf and pools feel more like a party spa, with temps pushing 90, prime hurricane waters.

With summer comes skin, lots of skin, and some skin you would really not rather see…which brings me to today’s poem Keeper of Things (probably considered rated R). It’s a common sight, and you all know what I’m talking about. I mean no harm, I can’t help where my writer’s mind takes me, just enjoying the journey.

keeper of things

i could see his pooch
as he stood without his shirt on
sweat band ’round forehead

i in cut-offs and tank top
neither one of us wore a bra

80 year old man-breasts
similar to my chest
after teenage pregnancy
and nurturing babies

ah, gravity
and 33 years age difference

but my nipples
have been tugged on
by little mouths of hunger
eager lovers and mammogram machines

its amazing how far
they can flatten these things

now, they hold keys
my cell phone
hell, they could house this
microphone

the enclave
between these monuments
now house my personal belongings:
ID, money, memories of honeys

i wonder what he keeps in his valley
evidently nothing, ’cause i can see his

while mine
remain hid

 

(not that this guy is poochy or 80, just thought it was a funny pic)

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