controlling conversation is one thing,
and I watched you
work the tables, bending slightly, patting a knee,
the key to your Honda dangling
like cheap dressing on décolletage
too amazing to be free,
a French way of invitation (no?)
or was my vantage just a bit
too far away, my eyes just a bit
too glazed with liquor.
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Reviews of "Twist it in"
Reviewed by xxxxxxx cccccc (Reader)
Reviewed on December 18, 2006
What insight. A tremendous poem. Makes quite a change. But then, talent is rare. You have it.