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ode to cobra | Poem




I didn't notice

my wrinkles,

or the gray,

or the gravity,


but young Cobra


and with sympathy

and kindness

showing in his

pretty eyes

pretty boy eyes

he smiled with all

the radience of

a toothpaste commercial.

I can take the stress

from your lovely face

he murmured

brushing the silver

gently from my brow

for a reasonable fee

because I like you

so much.

Does this mean

I've reached

"a certain age?"

Have I reached the age

of advertising smiles

and deference

on the beach

from friendly young men

with guileless eyes

and open hands?

I have always been


I have always wanted

to meet a gigolo.

I didn't expect a gigolo

to want to meet me.

- Daisy Sidewinder
to Daisy
to Moongate