Sunday, July 19, 2020

Sexually Charged (For Julie)

I shouldn’t be writing this, but here I am writing it all the same
Whenever I’m around her I feel like we’re the only two poets in the room as I imagine taking her in my Olive Oyl arms and reading her some Shakespeare sonnets from my favorite bag of tricks
Her body calls out to me like a mix of Homer and Schultz because I know we’re going on an odyssey together and at times it will be comical and full of pratfalls

Sitting next to Julie at a poetry reading is as good as it gets because she seems open to any and all possibilities as I attempt to figure out her home situation and if I’m really receiving these smoky signals from her
It’s probably all in my imagination and yet from the beginning I felt like she was into me which is quite surprising because she’s completely out of my league
I hate to think this poem will fall flat or even worse make Julie feel uncomfortable, but I felt like I had to finally say something because I’m like a pretzel all twisted up with no yellow mustard to cover up my apparent missteps

At the top of the Empire State Building looking down at all the ants wondering why it’s always been so difficult for me to play the part of a tourist or worse yet the tour guide
Maybe it’s because scenery has never done much for me and when it comes to roadside attractions I’d rather stay in the apartment working on my radio show and writing poetry
Let’s get something straight I’d never want to lose Julie as the close friend she has become and yet still my mind races as I think of us as two birthday suits, blowing out the candles and making a wish.

Charles Cicirella

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