The Body of Christ
My sister and her boyfriend drove to Corpus Christi
to see if they could get along alone. They couldn’t.
He spent an hour each night on the phone, a band
of fat rimming his boxers, speaking in baby talk
to his mother while my sister watched a movie
on the other bed. When they returned, my sister
wouldn’t see him, said he’d become too familiar,
that all she could see was his flesh, the way it rose
and fell when he sighed, the way it became all too real.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Don't play what's there, play what's not there." Miles Davis
Cocktail Hour
Drinking suggestion: Keep celebrating the Red Wings victory!
Benedictions and Maledictions
Rest in peace, Bo Diddley! Happy Thursday to all!
6 comments:
Racy, Racy, Racy, Racy !!!
Nice looking picture, as usual.
Speaking in baby talk with his mother, It is a good thing your sister got rid of him.
You know I love Mom, but speaking in baby talk, somebody gotta go.
Stand on your own two feet or take a hike.
This one calls up the thought "creepy" very well.
Christ was found yesterday in a Detroit alley partially behind a bush. My first thought was that he was pissing, but the story said he was missing a hand. The church he'd been kidnapped from was going to post a sign reading "Do Not Take Christ Down From The Cross." How very odd a statement.
In this vignette was it the roll of fat or the baby talk that made the dork too familiar? Gotta keep the 'hand on a hard body'
Peace
Damn that is beautiful. I think I am going to go for a jog.
*shudder*
was he for real? :(
I really like that poem.
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