Picket fences derived and created by one of the guests, prima donna outfits gathered into a semi-circle to talk it over, bulges, buttons popped outrageously. The talk of the press. Bullshit ladies and gentlemen listened rarely to the various speaker's lectures on today's world. No worry, if you were rich. Filthy rich. Power launched fads that carried clear across the Midwest, like some sort of cult. Prairie dogs stopped howling in the night air.

 

        Party breachers had no fun. Salacious hosts were almost everyone else. Heels turned to directions of non-well ways, pleasant cheeriness drank the booze. Sips of raw courage. 

 

        Dictates at social problems laughed perilously to his jokes. One vagina says to the other penis in cautious, but unmistakable ways. Platoons rose the tongues and dresses plunged. Continued pioneering was reckoned out of style. Gather wood no more. Crave a whore for tunes to sing about later on, pick-up -- a matron saint again, good for two jokes perhaps. Slither a silver gown up your fingers, the tingle at command, a shotgun sounding the beginning of two faces colliding uncomfortable, they pretend to enjoy the slides. Valleys to override.

 

        Hard. Applaud when it's over. Apples to eat. Strewn away they had to be found. Southerners understood the methods of recovery. Stroking long hair, to a loud buzz coming from somewhere uncooperative. 

 

        Graphic pictures were not to be read. Couple's dilating in public, hyena jackasses ready to pound on the victim in their hands, said to be quick. Cannabis reprievals saved their moments, made them better than they hoped for. Conniving righteousness held to be nicer in public, not really so true in public: everyone knew the truth. The face pretended once more to fool another bystander wise enough.

 

        The faces join clubs with others like them. Group leadership, Councils, discussions on furthering their pride abilities, counting on the grooves to be the same each time without a harsh word towards the affair at hand. Contacts in phone booths were there, just in case.

RIVER BED   72

copyright © 2017 d.jaffe  - all rights reserved