Parrot My Foot (Intimate Imitations)- Duet With Susan Daniels

Parrot my foot
and imitate these hands
shriving timbers
from deep down inside

This talk of love
your empty 4 letter word
speaking to my foot
my hand responds as needed

My mouth mirrors yours
in speech or kissing
but what do these lips speak
but echoes?

Traveling down my throat
faster than the speed of light
your shivering echoes leave loss
Lies and much wrong
Your four 4 letter word
Dust in my wind…

And if we must speak of love
I need bigger words
than those four characters
tumbling in the air
trapeze artists
without nets
just skipping past gravity

We cannot fly
we only tumble

By Susan Daniels and Boomie Bol
Boomie Bol in Italics

This poem was initiated by a response to my recent Friday Fictioneers post…between Susan and I the words fell out late at night. Susan is a genius at words so this is a mighty honor for me. Thanks again for indulging me Susan :).

22 responses »

  1. The last stanza kills it – two lines, two people, two perceptions ”
    “We cannot fly
    we only tumble”
    Two great poets, Boomie and Susan, whose voices are clear. whose voices do not stumble or fumble at the aprons of considered truth,…OK, one can only sense the faintest whisper of grumble at the “demise of a crumpet”

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