Poems Submitted by Our Readers

The sweat dripped like rain.  
Like buckets from the Orange State. 
I searched my mind and wondered where I kept my poncho.
Ah yes, that being in a blue dress, that body,
swung open the glass doors to Club Voltaire,
and promised that the night was hers.
My membership to her social elite club expired last summer,
as did the grinding revolutions of those sandy glass doors. 
And that mysterious blue, in my own mind, my own blue, looked straight ahead,
past the jukebox, past the DJ, and walked straight ahead,
while her external environment peeled away from her aura.
And for an instant, all he saw was blue.  
His own silence was deafening, fashionably loud,
her murderous smile ready to pounce. 
And he looked through his magical fantastical fascination,
and continued to remembered what it felt like to be in the rainy state of Florida. 


Aaron "TOP DOG" Small