At Pit’s Edge

At Pit’s Edge

So it’s away we go on another uncontrolled
run through art to music, and finally here,
overlooking the pit: to dive or merely fling?

But bouncing mammaries buttress resolve
as a weird outfit of lime green and sneakers walks
while stuffing her shoulder bag, cotton, not leather.

Flip flopping Samoan sits at an angle
that brings a smug hippie back into view.
She doubles back to purchase a blondie

as a debut butch, with body beautiful,
commando-steps boldly, making no contact.
Dude-boy distributes his latest polemic.

Perfect shapes, Finches hopping, Thai woman
comfort-steps in for a brew. Today it’s not 90
but still summer slow. Freshman arrive tomorrow.

 

 

Copyright, Doug Stuber, 2000. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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