Born imperceptible till puberty
When almost suddenly the breasts began
Ascending to the sky in uberty
Announcing their timely life, form and span
34B sounds like a room number
Except that breasts are bourn by frame and lace
Freedom’s afforded to those in slumber
Those liberal ones too, Look at my face
Cancer is a frequent cocky outcome
Growing together with one or both breasts
Wanting to raise its own while we succumb
To its sweeping quest despite all those tests
Oncology is the dirtiest word
Yet fuck, prick, pussy are those being slurred
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I like her; I could watch her the rest of my life. She has breasts that smile. – Philip K. Dick
About the Creator
Patrick M. Ohana
A medical writer who reads and writes fiction and some nonfiction, although the latter may appear at times like the former. Most of my pieces (over 2,200) are or will be available on Shakespeare's Shoes.
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Anthi's Mouth
You move me in one direction, as I can see a blue neon sign flashing in my mind: Anthi Is Waiting with Her Tongue Out. I look at your mouth but your tongue is still inside. I must have had a vision of the very near future, our soon-to-be now in all its splendour, or perhaps the barely past. I love you, my Anthi, now and forever. Methinks it is not enough. I will love you until the end of time. It is better, although it is undefined. What is the end of time? A space or lack of it where our essence is nonexistent or misplaced to another realm where existence ceases to mean anything, that is unless time and existence are infinite, which in the scheme of things, both known and unknown, seem about right from every side, slant and scale. Did I digress? Come on, M! I mean me, of course.
By Patrick M. Ohana9 months ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Oncology is the dirtiest word. That was so powerful!