Poetry (8)

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I’m waiting for the man


In an idle moment

Without the least reserve

Between discussions of

Cocteau and Rousseau

(And doing

the crossword)

When asked:

“If I were a food

What food would I be?”

Will not dismiss it



“What do you think you are?”

“Well beloved, I can only go

On what others have said…”


“They say I’m warm and wholesome

And they make me sound like bread.”


“Well you’ve broken my body

When we’re in bed!

And we’ve brokered peace

With such offerings

En sábanas del sed.

And though its you who sends up cries:

When you knead me, mi amor,

It’s I who will rise.”


“What am I?

Dime, qué?

Fruit or cake

Meat or fish

Veg or steak?”

“You’re making me hungry…”


“You’re… Nata y miel.

Vainilla y chocolate.

Y si tu era chocolate

Soy solo agua caliente.

Te gusta la respuesta?”


“What kind of chocolate?”

“Ah you… you intrigue me

And provoke me like hell…

You’re a very slow yielding

Chocolate truffle with a shell.


But when you melt…

Ay mami

You’re like molé

In my chemistry.


It doesn’t matter

What you are

Because you





I will say nothing.

Turn away

 And I will have trouble believing

That he feels it’s true.

I’m waiting for that man


I’m waiting….


(© Copyright Pola Negri 16/08/2015.)


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