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   unpublished poetry
jho john visits chat room 9
There are no Septembers
               in this place,
everyone is April age, adorable.
Muscles bulge, tight stomachs
ripple rise and double dipple.
Raven hair falls over breasts as
      firm as corporate contracts.
Lips pout proudly , part to form
     electric kisses that confound
          surge suppressers made for
               main frames.

Women here are all so womanly,
that would a Botticelli stumble in
       he'd let Venus rest not rise.
Their eyes are like some sudden
starlight streaking on an evening
black past all horizons known.
Since all are all beguiling here,
own a modem and you own
a moment none will ever share
                 but you and you.

John Anderson, my Jho John,
            'Tis April, I am here
'Tis love I send, My Jho John
To guide ye through the year.

The Men.
Each one so manly that
an early tan on one would be
as sun on son, superfluous.
Boots and buckle belts are left
                out in the foyer.
Such accouterment where men
                are Really Men,
unnecessary decoration for this
new nations' always well endowed.

Imagine Eden with no monitor.
                No snake snaking
through the grass, merely phallic
forager in search of serpent likes
     his own and you have Chat
Room # Nine on line and proud
of it. Full up. The line of chatters
outside awaiting entrance past
the velvet rope is as long as long is,
          when it's really long.

John Anderson, My Jho John
           Soon it will be May
'Tis love I send, My Jho John
    To help ye on your way

I will stop
and loaf some time here
until the wait in Chat Room
Eight has eased. A little pause
before a final foray through
          the pounding surf.
A little time to suck some
wine in, bite off half a peach.

The room that you requested
is not available just now, would
you like to go to another room
                     just like this?

Not bloody likely.   I will only settle
for the real cyber thing.   Till then
I'll wait, chit-chat a bit, as long as
I am here. Shine and spin some for
the crowd, do a few more net line
dances, take my cyber chances.

John Anderson, my Jho John
        'Tis dark I cannot see
Remember me My Jho John
       Will ye remember Me.?

Lady, if you're gonna go on
singin' like that all night long,
           I'll be a-goin' home.

 

Instant Message: age/sex/u lik
Message Back: senior/yes, please
Instant Message: lol

Copyright 1998 by Rod McKuen & Stanyan Music Group. All rights
reserved and no part may be reproduced in any form without written
permission of owners.
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