Green Tank Top (A Poem)

Today, I read poetry I can't afford
To own
Bound
In big glossy hardcovers
Written by people
With letters attached to their last names

Today, I sat in an overstuffed armchair
And tried to breathe through my mouth
To drown out the smells of capitalism:

Burnt coffee
And caramel cookies

I felt the stares
Of the book snobs
As they sneered at my selection
My junk-food literature

I saw her as a blur in my peripheral
The corner of my right eye
I caught a glimpse of green
And as I spun
I saw the silhouette of leg
Clad in faded denim
Torn around the edges
Uneven and neglected
But it looked so good on her

Skinny
Tall
Black bra, worn loose
The straps falling so suggestively

Green tank-top
Bad skin
Sweating beneath too much make-up
While I wear none at all

I lick my lips
And bite down
Chewing through
The rough dry skin my tongue finds there
Too eager to distract my mind
While my eyes dance
And feed upon her flesh

I want a cigarette

I want to write it down
I'm so inspired
By the way she turns her face in profile
As she walks away

I wonder what she's reading

Green tank-top
An inspiration in this stifling uniformity
This arena for pornographic poetry and prose
The smell of burning coffee
And fifteen minutes left to go

©2010 ~strawberry-goodness