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Communal Turn-style
by Timothy SomersI had an invitation to join a commune
years ago,
didnt go.
North of Santa Fe,
a way out
out of the way place
to face your face to face,
wear lace,
or any damn thing you pleased,
or naught
but skin and LSD.
We'd started a war or two,
then too.
Commune with nature,
commune with sagebrush,
skip the hairbrush,
free love,
painted dove
on the side of the bus,
bought the ticket,
couldn't get on,
or off.
Missed the free love,
never had the painted
dove or henna tattoo.
Missed the clap too,
whole damned place came down with it. 09/12/2008 Posted on 09/13/2008
Copyright © 2025 Timothy Somers
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 09/13/08 at 02:58 PM Santa Fe's nice though. I probably would have considered going just to be in that neck of the woods again. Nice work. |
| Posted by Nancy Ames on 09/13/08 at 03:51 PM Right on about the sexual 'musical chairs' game, Timothy, and you didn't miss much that was worthwhile either. Good one. |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 09/13/08 at 05:17 PM ...tim, i smiled while i read this puppy...man, [in my mind i was there with madras shirt, unbuttoned one button, psychodelic pants, moustache, joints-to-beat-sixty, and the clap too[didn't, but if we'd gone...great memory jog...wonerfully well-written. |
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