Posted in California, Life, Poetry, Prose

Foreign Films

When I was young
foreign films meant something
else than today,
it was usually French women, doing things
that mom said Americans would never do,
but I could only dream about what that was

Maybe they rode their Schwinn bikes
topless, along the beaches of the
Mediterranean, or smoked skinny cigarettes
and looked dreamily at their equally mysterious
French lovers?

Mom would never have admitted to doing
what went on in my young mind,
and would have washed my mouth out with soap
if she ever suspected my impure thoughts
about older women, speaking
words that made text appear
at the bottom of the screen…..

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My profile might reflect who I am, what I think and why I write what I do. My profile might just reveal the inner workings of a deranged mind, a helpless soul, and a self-destructive way of living. Don't worry. I'm OK. I've just lost sight of my little sister in the evening clouds....

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