Jim Smith has had six or seven careers and publishes and reads in Minneapolis, MN. His work has appeared in The Slate, Voices of the Well and various e-zines. He can be reached at bard69@winternet.com.







Casual Appetite


She tried to get me
to accent
her pretty patent leather
View of
all my angry
petulance
But I wasn't
easy to seduce
on that specific
batch
Of cold
remorse
I wanted
something
stingy
for a casual appetite
That wouldn't bite me
in the afterglow
So I bent a little forward
holding back a snap
or two
In order to take a little
peek
at cleavage
hustling
For my
contentions
as a whiff of
strange erotic smoke
Clutched
harmless on the throttle
of a Harley
Laying rubber
on her
snake bit
thighs
That's when I asked her
if I could suck
it out


Cinematic Repartee





If I was a hunter
vicious
with all the gusto
beer and guts
could muster in the
Hollow
of an ego
burdened
muscle tree
I'd fire
my silly putty
party gun right at that target
you have shellacked
with epic glee
But you have made it far too
visible for someone as confused
as I
To contemplate
with
parity
So put away that
Charlie's Angel
bag-em-with-insipid-dental-floss
exposed and pandered
cheering suits with the
Breast inflated letter
F
Cause I want to find you brooding
over ecologic malady and
social empathy
buried deep in
Metaphors
that make my skin crawl with
bug suits
even Roger Corman
hadn't stripped from
Hollywood impostors
hoping for a cup
of cinematic
repartee
That percolates
right now
within my overrated
imagery
Would you be my
belated valentine
in that parallel universe
over there





Jim Smith



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