LAST TANGO IN TIMBUKTU

Poetry Potluck

One Shot Wednesday

I wonder if you can sense that you're mostly tip and very little iceberg,

though I still get a chill thinking of you.

And do you understand that your shallow hellos and how-are-yous

don't begin to scratch the surface of this itch?

Like the Sphynx, you sit there stone-faced,

a cryptic note I wrote to myself and can no longer decipher.

You strain to read my lips while I try to interpret your hand signals,

and that's as close as you and I ever come.

But all I want to do is touch you--

and maybe, maybe if we make love, I could break through.

But I remember some who wouldn't give me the time of day

on the day after, as if to say WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?

You can't touch me THAT way!

But maybe, maybe if I told you all my secrets, then I could touch you--

or would you just sit there in embarrassed silence and order another cafe latte?

Or take you to zee Kasbah and whisper dark obscenities in you ear,
or force you to look into my eyes,

or suck on your toes (whilst you're blowing your nose)

stand on my head, or take you to bed,

yes, I know it's not always a bed of roses

and sometimes things get thorny--

but DAMMIT, sweetheart...I'm horny!

SORRY. Just a minor loss of control.

Not something you, or the crew of the Titanic, were at all familiar with.

There is a place inside you where emotions become trapped and die,

so allow me to translate:

I LOVE YOU GO AWAY!

I LOVE YOU GO AWAY!

I NEED YOU GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT!

I NEED YOU GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT!

Go ahead and blame your parents who didn't have a clue.

(Where are you now...Timbuktu?)

The buck's gotta stop somewhere baby,

and when I say to you that you're responses are perfunctory, you say "OH?"

And when I say that you're proving my point, you say "OH?"

And still you sit there like a demented desk clerk,

while all the while your brain is screaming:

CHECK OUT TIME!

CHECK OUT TIME!

Wait a minute--you can't leave now!

 Can't just get up and walk away--

tear it all apart when we could be so together.

Ah, GEEZ!  There goes another one.

Good thing I told the waiter separate checks.