Heart beat.
From our first kiss.
Beating faster, yet wait…
You came here with someone else, no?
School in the morning, work in the morning.
All that seems to drop far away.
What does it matter now?
It’s just a kiss.
Heart beat.
Creepers,
Not my normal fare, but I’ve been inspired by the great American Poet Linda J. Wolff. At least I think she’s American. If she’s not, she should be. I’d give you a link, but I’m too stupid to figure that out. But she keeps posting up these “Rictameter” poems, which use a 2-4-6-8-10-8-6-4-2 syllable scheme. Plus, the first “2” and the last “2” have to be the same words. She’s got some good sh!t out there, this is my way of noting her contributions. Imitation being the sincerest form of flattery etc.
If you want to see how it’s really done, Google her or use some kind of WordPress search feature.
More Six Word Stories and disreputable tales of my life to resume after this commercial break.
Sincerely,
Finnegan
p.s. if you’re wondering how the poem really ends, I bang that chick in her car out in the parking lot. But that’s not really suitable for poetry.
The Lamentations of Finnegan Daley 