Thought I’d share another poem from my book Wednesday Night Regular before I head off to the club. Hope you like it.
for Chanel
She sits before me
Crumpled muscles
Under silky skin
Awaiting attention
Of smoothing hands
She is a river
April thawing
Moaning after
Long winters
Of discontent
She is Atlas
Carrying worlds
With these shoulders
Now shrugging
‘Neath my fingers
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 