Midday fun

Cooking, Garlic

garlic copy

Skinny-scenting, sensual and drums,

quiet times in memory,

touch my taste and odor;

beat my burns until they heat.

My trapper of felines whose legs part,

more and more, sensual  in blue,

hot in black, nails dark,

at noon and half-past six.

Pull them tight, together; make them smoke.

Sunflower praying, heating up with

cooked-up fun – such sauce.

Breathe oil and grease; midday fun.

Barry Comer 1012 – Illustration 2015

Fewer lines calling home

12-step, 1960s, Addiction, beat poetry, Cigarettes, Communism, Expressionism, Illustration, line art, Poetry, portrait, selfie, Street

me

Yup, fewer lines seems to be my calling at the moment. I’ll go with it until the “call of the line” brings me home.

There does seem to be a little “street” in me.