Two Out Of TwelveA Poem by MimiWTwo Out Of Twelve
©June 2013,
Mimi Wolske All Right Reserved Ten out of
Twelve We’re nothing More than
static, Paper doll
cutouts Languidly Attending Facebook to Play games and Entertain Anyone Who cares to Stop by our
pages
Funny how two
hearts Blend to one Sobering over
drinks With no alcohol, Two who will
not Give away Shared Secrets To outsiders Or fiends who
may Need tending. Past lovers, Acquaintances, Faces and words To be shared And spared… And shunned Not just by us But by
Facebook, too.
If there was a
pipe organ, Would it exhale Muffled notes And erotic
tones… Come on baby,
light my fire… As we danced On the wall, On the floor, On the bed? Two out of
Twelve, Each in our Wire spectacles That, when we
kissed, Tonguing each
other, We’re pressed together Look like four Gold-rimmed Bicycle wheels.
“Is it possible To get a
hangover From constant Frustration?” I ask, as a
roast beef Sandwich flaps In my hands While I recount The latest,
cruel Atrocities that
are Punctuated by
lies Spewed by a vindictive Jealous woman Who continually Tries to sneak
in The back door Wearing a
different Disguise Every Time.
Ten out of
Twelve We shake our
heads at Paper-plate Offerings Filled with Food for
thought From “helpful
Hannahs” Who come to offer Two cents worth
of Kindness and
considerate Advice for the
weary, The
disheartened, The flustered, The angry; Us…
Scattered On our pages The recent
evidence Of panty-clad
requests All too
familiar, the Public w****s Stripped,
salacious, Ready to tease
and Be bedded, With the same
friends As all of the Other
requesters You point out, And we know It Is Her… Probably; Paranoia
confuses Bad with good. But, there she
is, The changeling, Being her true self,
Acting
innocent, asking What’s wrong,
and Denying when
asked That any of
them Are her.
Occasionally We underestimated How pathetic All of her acts
were And I wanted to Send out a
warning To everyone she
touched, To everyone she
sought, To everyone she
cried To for help With a
suicidal-like Cry for a
panacea" No! Not that! For a Denouncement Of us, Plagued by her Purloining of
IDs" No longer could We see our Noblesse oblige Being extended
to One as hopeless As the feigned Defenseless Satan’s liar
who We would never Underestimate
again.
Together, Two out of
Twelve, Safely
segregated From
everything, From crowded
places, From everyone… A dozen red
surprises In a small town Broadens my
smile Warms your lips Before lustful
sighs Are replaced
gladly With sated
cries… From us, Who defiantly
refuse to Get out of bed Before month’s
end Lingering, Breathless and Oblivious to
time until The
end. © 2013 MimiWReviews
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3 Reviews Added on June 11, 2013 Last Updated on June 19, 2013 AuthorMimiWAZAboutMimi is an artist and an author and the world’s greatest singer. She has degrees to prove the first two…only true friends will verify the last. She loves to dance, do flips, ride her ho.. more..Writing
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