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We Launch Our Laughter At Seven
by Philip F De Pinto
when cooler heads will not prevail
but hotter riveted set sail
for the land of cough
which given love is blind
she will use to echo locate her paramour
who could cough back save William Butler
has him firmly in thrall which he feeds her twixt spoonfuls of Hebraic crepes
dolloped with fruit and Grecian yogurt
and if there was ever magic in numbers
it was never seven but clearly two
and that is reason enough for her to cough
so as to echo locate her correlative numeral and not remain alone
in the kitchen burning pan the goat not the frier
and so she coughs so as to savor her corroborating number to the bone
clearing her throat to make us two
and heaven forbid the day some envious X Y or Z
will slip some honey in her tea
to hale what would mean the death knell of two
and revert us back into alone
given love is blind
how to locate the one she loves
lest she make a habit of coughing
and quell the singular heart
yearning to venture further and truer south
so as to enter the port
and the starboard side of her
which never promised convention
in lieu of wilderness but two torrid
recipient to fabulous tete a tete
on this flying carpet of a bed
which lacks a head board
on which the rushing waves of our cunnilingual parle vous
would slap and lap and crash
at such pace we will never arrive at retrospect
nor anthology nor at the vaginal harbor
in which to capsize the penile heart
lubed of spit and tuned to a cacophony of sound
which will launch us in the round and yelping
reminiscent of unresolved yet ever evolving symphonies
hence we will launch our laughter at seven
and year to subsequent year
wide grinning ear to ear
lest the e'er widening heart alums in fear
conch to ear
made privy to wind
on an atrophied sea
and in the tree
is the sorrel in the bush and in the wood
the branches know not
what driftwood know
finding us launched and laughing out of season
the diatribe of which treble the heart's crystal
in the china shop of our cove
where we mad stop or dash
and stomp our high heeled romance
and lest she continues to cough
as to keep us two
we will not have a clue
how to pay for this damage alone
lest shop owners
be consoled
with the lunacy of glue?
01/18/2013 Posted on 01/18/2013
Copyright © 2024 Philip F De Pinto
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 01/18/13 at 07:01 PM Brilliant piece of work, Octoplus. You've definitely raised the bar on the genre of relationship related poetry. I love poetry that encorporates numerology into its message and vocabulary. Heading straight for my favourites. |
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