Poetry: The Usual

Wade Souza
She brushes against my back and floats on past,
Like fireflies in fog.
My restless eyes return to Sam
Deliberate but precise,
He mixes my "usual," the next never less than the last,
I sip and stir, sip and stir, ice in gin enduring.
Sitting there.

In elegance enthralled, as if pressing fire
To her lips were innate as breath.
No one like her wakes up alone.
My gaze crashesintohers
Her eyes fly through me then through the threshold
Thoughts wrestle. I stand to relieve myself.

The passing haze her sinewy silhouette swaying
Insisting I speak even if entirely incoherent
The slightest inkling realized would quake the earth
Then swiftly plunge us to pleasured perish
Forever damned in whimsical desire
Down down down we fly now oh no tis only I

Stumbling through the exit.

Published by Wade Souza

Souza graduated with distinction from the Exercise Science: Sport Management Program at the University of Kansas. Souza currently resides in Dallas, Texas and is employed as a certified Personal Trainer and...  View profile

1 Comments

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  • Jay3/28/2010

    Cool article! This is in fact proof to the theory of some professors at, I think Boston College, that state-through research, that men are 90% more likely to say something stupid around a pretty girl. Rather, a blond to be more specific. It is thought that the jumbled thoughts of trying to come up with something clever and "pick-upish", instead of just being one's self, prove to be detrimental to the dialogue that follows. Impressive poem!

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