Tennis Players

Golden skin middle aged men
With their abundant
Opulent
Obtrusive
Protruding
Beer bellies
That waft liberally
And commandingly
Absorbing
The bracing breeze
Play
Amongst themselves
In the scorching jungle
Of a tennis court

They're moving sideways
Bouncing languidly
Descending heavily
Repugnantly
The excesses of their browned skin
Quaking like putty
Or jelly

The beads of sweat
Rolling defiantly
Like a marching army
Of salty
Clammy
Drippy
Body excretions
That gently
Graze
And tickle their toasted
Leathery-skin arms
And stick
On the prickly little hairs
Of their robust legs
And heaving chests

They're grunting
Panting
Inexorably
Under an unrelenting sun
And its maddening discharge of
Incensed heat

They're yelling
Snorting guck
And spitting from their dry
Bitter tasting mouths

They're licking their
Quivering lips
With sensual maneuver
And tensing their
Soaked brows

Their legs sparse
But firm

Their heads
Erect

Their broad backs
Hunched

They're waiting
And thrusting their
Trunk-like limbs
Backwards and
Forwards
With erotic
Exotic exuberance

They're groping
The thick
Stick
Of their rackets
With their slippery
And gooey
Dirty
Monkey hands

They're anxious
And ravenous
Waiting for the ball
Knowing the ball
Taming the ball

Come, you Beast
   
            you BAstard

                       Insolent BITCH

HIT!

... Oh, middle aged men with protruding beer bellies

You
Make
Me
Sick

Escape

Her sequined skirt – red as madness, green like envy – flapped to the rhythm of her jubilant hips, as her body twirled, and her dance allied with the fury of the night. The speakers pounded incessantly, each tom tom drumming in her chest and perforating her mind with the raging language of exhilaration. She walked up to the bar, where the desperate fiends stripped their preys naked with imperious eyes – bloodshot, aching, and starving with lust. After two vodka tonics – “three lemons on each, please” – she lifted her frazzled skirt all the way up, exposing her sleek pale thighs for the mad ones to crave. The fiend at the right caught on to the motions of insinuation, smelled the stench of need, and following her game, extended his left arm to rub the inside of her thighs. It was an assertive grip rather than a smooth caress, and she loved it. She bit her lower lip and threw her head back. He smirked as his hand clutched tighter. He stood up first, and she trailed after, silently making their way out of Nick’s. The crispness of the midnight air felt refreshing and consoling against their moist skin. They stepped further into the night, and relieved their desires beneath the cape of moon shadows.

Mathematics

I smoked
One
Two
Three cigarettes
Trying to forget
The last words spoken

I cried
Four
Five
Six times
Trying to purge
Regret from my body

I replayed what I did in
Seven
Eight
Nine ways
Trying to justify
My impulsive actions

I gave you
Ten words
Ten stares
Ten suggestions as to my contrition
Trying to get a reaction

But I didn't even get a fraction
Of your forgiveness

Ways

You bought me shoes

And bought me clothes

And even paid for my CD

Is this your promise of love?

I recognize that promise of love

From years

That washed away with fickle times

Drowned in my confusion

Of what it meant

To not see you

But to hear your crying

From outside the room

                    Your grief’s chamber

And now I understand

But am powerless

Useless

I am as feeble

As I was then

And what I have in my possession
Is a pair of Avon shoes
Worth $200
Bought for $40
That promise an "I love you" 

In ways that you could never pronounce

Some things don’t require words

To lavish understanding

I am receptive to unvoiced language

                                        Or so I think

But your eyes are still stained with disillusion

Your voice, once strong and overbearing 

Is, again, hushed with muffled sadness

I am receptive to unvoiced language

                                    Or so I thought  

Apology

I shied from you today

Denied you my speech

Mainly because I had no words to accompany it

Partly because I was bereft of incentive

I closed a chapter of ours last night

And since then
Our company is ill with silence

While our minds conjure worlds of thought

That will never be shared

And so it is that we fall deeper

Into the space of sorrow

And become unequivocal strangers

With each passing minute

Our friendship unfed of trust

Or remedy to redeem it

I want us drunk on wine
Sharing a cigarette 

Watching movies

Talking of that and this

Laughing with intoxicated hopes

And silently consoling each other’s loneliness

With the assurance of mutual empathy

 I want your head resting on my right shoulder

After running away from the crowd

And recklessly driving into the night

The wind tangled in our hair

And having you promise me

Like you did on Christmas Eve

“This will be forever”

But because I (without intention)

Have altered our alliance irrevocably

I have only to regret and understand

That a second marks much more than time

And holds more strength

Than transience

Without knowing
I permanently marred us

And if we ever were to recover

Our bond won’t be unscathed

But rather strangled from time to time

With wounded memories

That will gash us deepest

During bouts of silence

I woke up late
And heavy with stagnation  
Yes, I knew that it was twelve
But I didn't want to face you

My eyes were swollen
And sprouted residual tears

            Your voice was low

Today I tried to mend the shattered pieces

But was tortured and defeated

Debilitated from the effort

Weakened before the face of truth

And the realization

That the moment I flung the spear

Into the heart of friendship

The puncture would never fully seal

I sensed you crying

And discretely glanced over

But though your eyes were moist and saddened

They did not reveal injure

It is the way it is

The way to take disappointment and betrayal

And I, too, am reserved

But nevertheless broken

With the yearning of yesterday