Laptop Sally
Laptop Sally
by shawn misener
it’s with fuzzy fingers
that I finger you
my love
I wait for you to come
and I twitch away
with fingers fuzzy
and brain looped on pot
maybe I’ll step out
and catch a parliament
on the ghetto porch
I guess I can wait
out there
in the cold
with the comfort of smoke
but when I return
I expect you to yield a good one
my love
show me the letters
once again
I’ll take your guts away
in a thumb drive
wherever I go
but I’ll always return to you
and your glowing screen
misener @ October 18, 2007
I think the narrator of this poem needs to get out more often.
Ha. I couldn’t agree more.
Fantasy can be a powerful force! …therapeutic to an extent, but fatal if you become addicted to it. My laptop sally is Petra Verkaik..mmmm, her hair reminds me of a warm safe place where as a child I’d hide, and wait for the thunder and the rain, but why did it pass me by?
..”maybe I’ll step out and catch a parliament [funkadelic (the band?) or perhaps cigarette?] on the ghetto porch..”—that grabbed me, maybe because i’ve done that before and it’s just one of those necessary ’stop time’ moments where you reflect and take a breather from life..Cool poem
The “thumb drive” (in my mind) leads to a feeling not tied to an individual “laptop” but to the experience. In a pot laced haze of laissez-faire intimate encounters, the recipient of the thumb drive is unspecific and unimportant (so long as that USB is available).
Mis dos centavos.