Blushes and [Mock] Insults

We lay upon the Spring grass of the Park,
belly-down, and facing each other
… spitting [Obscene and Vilely
Constructed] syllable-work…
out of Laughing/Offended mouths.
“It’s not fair… you’re a Poet…
you almost fucking SINGED
my perfect eyebrows with that last Insult
… tell me something ‘Nice’
or I’ll Sulk like a right Miserable Thing!”
I twisted [Quickly] onto my side.
“You even swagger when horizontal?”
I refrained from answering, sliding closer
… and gently whispered
the last 4 lines of this morning’s poem
into her perfect, little ear…
which was hiding [Snugly] inside
… her gorgeous smelling golden hair.
had ENGULFED her [Emotional] Heart.
“So, I finally Shut YOU Up… I Win!!!”
I smirked, grabbing a-hold of her hand
and pulling us both back up onto our feet
in one sudden, dramatic, fluid movement.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.