In the Pickup Line at the Deli

Your eyes are like onions,
translucent and glazed;
Your brows are like yeast,
perpetually raised;
Your nostrils are rings
each surrounding a hole;
Inside which I eye a path
straight to your soul;
Your lips are so crusty
and crumby and cracked,
I just want to eat you;
How’m I supposed to react?

topics: ,

About The Author


Other posts by

Author’s web site


06 2009

Your Comment