Along the dusty boulevard
wide hipped girls saunter
shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm,
in languid lockstep
Sunset sweat bejeweling
their upper lips and foreheads,
glistening glass beads
at their temples
A slow parade of possible futures
for the boys on the benches
who watch with smoke-stung eyes
while pretending disinterest.
Gazelles and lions on the sleepy
Spanish urban savanna,
there’s no telling the predator
from the prey
Aperitif
Sexy! Though the repetition of the word “hip” in the first stanza is too much for this short of poem, I must admit I can’t think of a replacement.
The lines are so evocative. It’s -30 here, and I can still feel the heat, the sweat, and the smoke.
Yes! I agree with you. I was very stuck on that. I decided I just had to live with it, but I see your point absolutely. Saw it when I wrote it. *sigh*
Very nice.
I particularly like the third stanza, the description of the boys prowling with contrived nonchalance is very evocative.
Thank you, I think I could tighten it up a bit.