What wakes me each day is his beauty
The touch he spares with imagerunner hands
The need and want to peel
Shed off skin
Let him see the night of living
Custom framed for his pleasure
To tinge the palate with vulgar speech
Allow the brass wind to follow
With a forked tongue
Bilateral contraction occurs
When my paprika clit hums gratuitously his proposal
What wakes me each day is the informal flame of love
©2006 by Cathy Delaleu
TOMORROW IS NEVER PROMISED SCENTED ROSES
Definition of MOVE: To progress toward a particular state or condition
As you all know I have moved to my new casa/crib/kingdom/home,
but now I am unable to do anything as far as decorating
or unpacking. The painter was able to paint all the rooms except for the
kitchen, I am told should be done next week.
So what is the major problem?
They have discovered the wooden floors in my bedroom and living room
are infested with termites, yuck! And so over the weekend they started taking out
some of the wood and tomorrow the exterminator is coming to do some major work. My landlady then tells me that she no longer wants to keep the floors with the wood; she went to Home Depot and bought $1500 worth of tiles for my bedroom and living room. She was supposed to be out of town for 10 days starting tomorrow but put off her vacation in order to watch the men work in my apartment. That was nice of her to do. Of course I am not at all thrilled with all this going on, I feel kind of homeless not having anything in order. I come home everyday to find the painter/handyman working on the floors and now tomorrow is going to be crazy. Yesterday I was a bit stressed, not wanting to go home and face the mess I still have over there, so after work I decided to go solo to the movies and watch The Devil Wears Prada. It was cute, not worth the $11 dollars I paid at Loews. I can’t believe they increased the price just to watch one corny ass movie. What is this world coming to? I know I should have waited to watch Superman or X-men but they were all sold out for the 5pm and 6pm shows. Ok, so far I have three men working in new my apartment: the painter/handyman, the electrician and the exterminator.
The painter/handyman is one guy I can’t stand because he takes too many breaks and he looks at me funny when I’m home. He also gives me attitude when I ask him questions. The guy is not even cute and he sweats like a pig. The electrician who is from Guyana is cute, he has a nice body and he is approachable. The only problem I have with him is his accent, which is very strong and hard to comprehend. His speech is like doubledutch, I find myself asking him to repeat himself more than once. When he was installing my ceiling fan I asked questions about his background and he divulge lots of info, he has three children and been married for over ten years (damn! all the good ones are taken) then there’s the exterminator who is Jamaican and looks like he’s in his fifties. He stopped by my apartment twice to take a look at the wood floors. He was very flirtatious with me but he’s not at all my type and way too granpa-ish for my taste. I used to have the freedom to blog at home but I have no quiet time or space and I am craving for privacy. I don’t know how long this torture will last.
Lyrics, poetry and art all meshed together