A naked Mr. Back was courting
My hand behind your back. He slipped
His hand beneath my skirt, and hurting
He pulled it quickly back. He gripped
And held it out – all burnt and throbbing,
A hive of bees. He kept on sobbing,
“My hand! My hand!” The honey dripped
Like molten blood from icy crypt,
Igniting parquet floor and ceiling.
Our bedroom chamber burned to hell –
I called, you came, and silence fell
(With Mr. Back on prie-dieu kneeling).
You pulled at hose along my thigh –
But could you reach a fire that high?
I think that’s now one of my favorites. Thanks.
Love the idea of adding other narrators beyond Moran and the omniscient narrator, even if they only get one or two stanzas apiece. It makes the book’s exploration of the fire even more varied.
Did Mrs Moran read Barzun?
No, but I’m sure Barzun was in the room too…
JOB
Love this. Kinky-sexy is what we were missing.
Very fine, Mr. JOB. And for those who don’t know, “melissa” is Greek for “honey bee”. Vergil would be proud. Or maybe he’d be offended by the kinky sex, but hey, it’s a new age here.
I think, now, we have three more to go. Anyone else got any steam left in them.
I’d love Potter to say more about Mr. Back’s murder; I’d love also to see more about what happened once Seattle was built like a BRICK….HOWSE!
JOB
Recalls the best of Donne.
Please let me know if you’re looking for a article author for your blog. You have some really good posts and I feel I would be a good asset. If you ever want to take some of the load off, I’d
love to write some material for your blog in exchange for a
link back to mine. Please shoot me an email if interested.
Thanks!
What did you think of the poem?
And what’s your email?
And is there merely spam?
JOB