Flutetitute Poem by R.Benjamin Abate
Flutetitute
On a good day-
She celebrates 'round noon
On a good day-
She celebrates nude-
She doesn't want
Babies - doesn't need anyone-
She doesn't want
To change her attitude-
She traps you with her stare
She traps you like a tomb
& You become ancient in
Her pyramid-
You could take her
For a spin like she's
A Bentley, but she's
Been bent before-
Yes, she's been bent plenty (x2)
She comes wrapped
In red velvet-
A perfect present-
Her dirty blonde locks
Hang beside the Mountain Tops-
But she's suspended just for you-
& She doesn't cost a thing-
Just a number on the Flute
& You'll come runnin'
Back to her before noon
But she'll be in bed
With another dude-
You could take her
For a spin like she's
A Bentley, but she's
Been bent before-
Yes, she's been bent plenty (x2)
Yeah yeah just watch her
Hips move right to your
Flute's
Groove
Yeah yeah she'll just continue
To 'till age changes the way
She looks into the mirror
& Things become clear-
Memories of men
Who played joyful songs-
Who played sad songs
Oh the infinite ruse (x2)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 6:04:05 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Ah, this is quite sad really.....for the Bentley, not you.....for she lets herself be played with like a toy when she's a thinking, feeling, warm blooded, lost human being and yes, old age does have clarity....it takes you back to your childhood, when your looks meant nothing. In the end, just your inner self is left.