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Sundays, Tom Waits and You
skinnyJon

sunshine spills on to the carpet
 1
naked where she lay
 2
like a silky cocker spaniel
 3
wallows in the warmth
 4
hot as a sausage
 5
browning in the pan
 6
sweat beads string
 7
a dewy necklace
 8
slowly sliding
 9
around the curves and
 10
 
 
the radio is whispering
 11
a smoky tom waits verse
 12
 
 
my heart will not beat
 13
lungs will not breathe
 14
my eyes can hardly
 15
bear to gaze
 16
as she extends a long
 17
and lazy leg
 18
gently rolling over
 19
sinking softly into the
 20
heat where
 21
sunshine spills on to the carpet
 22

24 Jun 07

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Comments:

This is beautiful, Jon.
My only nit is 'you' in l17.
I would either change 'she' in l2 to 'you' as well
or change 'you' in l17 to 'she'.

Very nice.

Sam
 — unknown

I really like this poem. The rhythm's great and I love the way you've connected the beginning and the end.
 — sparrow

wonderful, moody piece with well-captured heat.
L14:  breathe

L 11-- with due respect to Mr. Waits, shouldn't your verb be "rasping"?
 — banditfemme

run-on-line 5-6 seems useless and makes it hard to follow...
spelling mistake line 14...
 — greenmantle

Thanks for all the comments, I made the pronoun and spelling changes.  
banditfemme - Waits' voice is raspy. I've always made the assumption it was from too many cigarrettes (sp?) and alchohol.  Also it makes me thing of dim smoky little bars, thus I chose 'smoky' instead of the more obvious 'rasping'.
 — skinnyJon

Ok, I missed the point.  Line 11 is 'whispering' because the radio's volume is very low.
 — skinnyJon

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