Their Lips Walk in Boots
I learned that I was lonely in the grocery store,
Where the girls all wear boots at night,
And though my poems would bore
Them, my synapses gone wild, my plight.
I tried to talk but my throat got caught
I was in the pizza aisle
A man or so I was taught
And all the girls in style
I thought about some of their thighs
I thought on some of their hips
In ’71 my marijuana highs
But in the grocery store their lips
Excellent…
Oh, thank you.
haha great poem!
Very intriguing and challenging to put into an image Their Lips Walk in Boots!