Bourbon Woman Thick legs, from cowboy boots to a denim skirt hem, straddle a bar stool. You just sit and watch. She's seven long miles of bad road, and you ache like a truck to drive those curves, no brakes.   Remedy Home, sick... I breathe in steam from chipotle spiced soup; outside, a maple turns and draws the rain.   If Cities are Women and Lovers Cleveland is a worn whore, ass slipping, tits sagging, who sucks penicillin with shots of gin. Take her with a few beers, a cool breeze off the lake, neoned shadows, and she'll leave you breathless.

Return to the front page of this issue:   Amaze   Vol. 5, No. 4   Go to the Poets & Authors page for the poet's biographical sketch and email link. All poems are copyright © 2007 by their respective authors.