home poetry fiction essays literary reviews An American Girl in... contests back issues submissions editors friends legal statement
|
A Sunflower Grows in England There are sunflowers in England She showed me when her mouth opened. A ripe tongue hitting my mouth As those blonde strands of time travel hit my face, Was her name "Jackie" or was it "between the legs anarchy"? Flavor and tunic hands brush my skin Locked like a little boy My fever pulses and my breath freezes in the air Creating ice sculptures, In the shape of British sunflower petals. I have nothing but photos, To prove that her eyes are richer than Southern oil, I have nothing but words, To prove that her pussy is made of poems. There is a sunflower across the cold Atlantic And it sits alone dancing in dark skies and thunder It waits and plays with metal puzzles, Hoping that he would just notice, With words and sex in a letter. ©Frank Reardon |