We were twenty-somethings
Early, twenty-somethings
Lying in the late day sun
With nothing but an ashtray and Vicki’s
yellow bikini top between us
We were greasy and sweaty and loaded
We’d been there all afternoon,
spouting words that had begun to
make no sense, the beer and the
desert heat making it all the more difficult
I don’t know how I’ll ever make it to fifty, I laughed
Vicki looked over to me, lowered her
round 70’s style sunglasses and said,
Ha, I’m not even tryin’
I’m still not! Love you, poetress.
Yay! The subject of the poem speaks! Thanks for visiting my page Vicki!