Chicano Poet

Friday, February 28, 2014

To Put It Simply

He took her into a darkened room
where a grassy hill was waiting
a lone tree spoke
into its pallid microphone
the motor cars had protruding veins
in the end to put it simply
he made love to her
the paperweight held its ground
the room spun its tale
to put it simply
he could please her blue eyes
with just the incline of the hill


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