Four Winter Interludes.

 (one-shooters-- peruse these or scroll down to "Dusty Kiss"-- thanks!)

Perhaps I don't need to say the following, but in case:  I've been so serious in my work, so down, and it seemed time to play.  I wanted to see if I could recast some of my indiscretions as a kind of lyrical erotica-- chiefly for the sake of some belly laughs for the writer and the reader.  A genre unto its own and not much of quality vis a vis the dance of language and the humor out there ... I'll be posting a poem by Theodore Roethke soon that started these trains rolling for me years ago-- thanks for your comments!  Very encouraging...J"

1. Cherries Jubilee

We put on Coyote-Ugly

long scrapped for better R and B

and then my pink negligee

long retired

to the sad end of the closet

You, burned out trucker

closet blue-grass ace

from the Ever Open Cafe

sat with the long-stemmed goblet

on your lap

breaking a smile:

You had a stent

in your white white chest

days and hours left, we knew it

That's why we got drunk at the steakhouse

slipped and slid over the ice

to my house

And I stripped for you

a nipple into the Merlot

and into your oh my goodness mouth;

So then.  Time for the send-off.

You tipped your ball cap back, looked at your watch

and we stepped into my bedroom

down to our skin

face to face

You opened your eyes wide

to tease me

swung each of my legs

over your shoulders

Be my Kenworth, baby

you said

That cherry stem thing with your tongue

ran me out of breath

Oh Lord, I can't stop, I  said

My body in a downhill skid of rapture

An eighteen wheeler running off the road

Amen, you whispered when I came,

grinding against my slick gears

Your turn, old man:

Damn blood pressure meds

You growled

Then oh babied me

And caught your breath

When I downshifted and braked

To keep from slamming into

A porcupine.

Don't die yet, I said

we laughed

And out in the pens

fire and ice telegraphed

across the species,

mares heads up, all ears.

2. Bad-Ass

One day in the cafe

the tall drink of water from Savannah

with all the chrome

Said the run from Ogden to Denver

hauling the U.S. mail

got to him

He ran blue eyes over me

where I sat reading the paper

he had silver hair and long fingers

and still used Old Spice

In the parking lot a kiss later a call

and then I  went to get him

call me millenium man, he said

your sugar daddy of the new year.

And he wore a hard silver six-gun 
with chamois smooth skin

loaded with an ever-ready cache 
of warm silverfish ammo

I loved in my holster

where I would yearn and smolder

Why would you toss my milkshake back
just drink me down like that
he'd ask

in the wake of a hot first go

half out of our clothes in the kitchen

nice girls don't do that

Nice boys don't let them --

if they want to come again

my riposte

How'd I get under your skin, he'd tease

when I played that song

while he suckled me hard

like a neonate Hampshire

boar.

He'd go no holds barred

until I was on the edge

get up and drift off

to smoke

I'd finish myself off in the dark

with one sympathetic hand

in one smooth glissade, biting my lips,

holding something back

not my heart

He never thawed or flinched

I'm your millenium man he'd say

taking out his comb
to mend his silver pompadour
ala Cary Grant

he would dress and smoke

and pace and drive away

and here it is again,

the new year, 3 a.m.

The hungry innuendos

of our bruised mouths

small whirlpools now

in the tide of my blood.

3. Mon Cherie

Mr. Chamber of Commerce

None-the-wiser

drunk as an owl on the full moon           

tells me about picking up a hooker

when he was on shore leave in Paris.

"She took me up to her pensione

put a red high heel on a chair

and slipped two little silver balls out of herself

and set them on the table.

I hope you don't mind, she said,

"They glowed in the darkness

Like Pluto and Uranus

while she purred her silky self

around me like a cat.

"What are those for

I asked

a little wet behind the ears

and she, kind enough not to laugh

said they keep me tight, cherie

And she was."

I laughed with lover boy

and finished off

his Dom Perignon

It was two a. m. and we hit the sheets

and I bled him of his longing

looking at the ceiling

because he came and went.

and I got there by happy accident

against his cooling haunches.

.

I'd picked him up by Coors light

at the steakhouse

Do you work for Hewlett Packard

he'd asked

because i'd come in

to make a kill

in that silver lame' dress

from the going out of business sale at Ross.

Absolutely not I said,

reaching down below the bar

and peeling off my panty hose,

putting them in his hand.

Not unless you'd call these

software.

One margarita a piece later

we went out to his new Escalade;

Let me lock the truck up, I said

sliding out to the blue chevy I'd parked

at the back where the cooks hired in

from Guadalaraja smoked

on break, missing nothing

Enjoy your steak,

one I knew called to me in Spanglish.

Is that what you drive?

Nope.  My Beemer's at home.

We roared down the late highway;

sparks from his Lucky Strike

flying up from the open window

When he sobered up in the aftermath

he looked at me

with pure terror

dropping me off, laying down

a patch of smoking rubber

to get away

So that when someone

had an airborne cardiac event,

crashing a Cessna into lover- boy’s warehoused

collection of priceless cars

I laughed and toasted him

We were tight, Cherie--it's all right

blowing the smoke from the barrel

of my cooling pearl-handled Derringer.

4. Carpentry

You furrow on your knees through the carpet

And clamp on to my ass

I have a mouthful of dust

You aren't nailing me

You’re building a house

Each 16 penny long and straight,

In deep, stapling limb to limb

Raise high the roofbeams

I cry out

Slathering myself

With Kama Sutra cream

Someone with an eye on the prize
Comes slick and singing

Out from under her hood

She thinks all this new construction

Is Better Homes & Gardens good

I prime her with my fingertips;

She’s airtight now

But she foams at the mouth

The last of my on-all-fours decorum

Takes a Greyhound south

We improvised;

The blueprint's proof--

We built a penthouse

Without a foundation

So paramount our elation--

The neighbors, I hiss

Get off the roof!

You install the final hasp

shriek sotto voce at the moon

  A Home at Last!

Copyright Jenne’ Andrews 2011

All rights deserved