For this Frowback Friday, I’ve got a little rhyme for you. It was previously published on Sweet3Mango, and I’ve reposted the intro as well. I hope you like it:
“Hey there, stranger. It’s me again. I’m Seven, and I live the dream in case you can’t. For some reason I can’t divine, my brain has been spitting up poetry lately. If more materialize I’ll make a series out of them…maybe call it “Verse of Vice.” Here’s one that farted out on the skytrain the other day.
Ode to Bangkok Gogo Dancers
I’m looking at you and your dragon tattoo
And the bells in my heart start ringing.
I’m rolling the dice and breaking the ice
In love with the song you’re singing
While stroking your hair, too keenly aware
Of the cold stares others are flinging.
The silent throngs of seething whoremongers.
Their envy is sweetly stinging.
I hope you don’t notice that stuck in my throat is
The hope to which I am clinging.
It renders me speechless, I’m grabbing your peaches
The rest of the men here are minging.
It’s now time to go, your sweet ass in tow.
My submarine’s sonar is pinging.
I pay the bar fine, so for now, you’re mine
Along with the promise you’re bringing.
Some ten minutes later I cross your equator
The depths of my old well springing
Then bid sweet adieu to your dragon tattoo
And you’re off, with your change purse swinging.”
Quick update: Ice is back in my life after six months of cold-shouldering. Her Hong Kong boyfriend got tired of her, so she’s up for regular bedroom antics at my pad. If anything worth noting happens, I’ll be sure to tell you about it.
Come back here on Sunday for Seven’s weekly.