Leaping Thru The Flaming Hoop of Love

The sun is out, the children shout,
And laughter's in the air.
Heave me books, head for the pool,
All me little chums are there.

Splashing 'round and wetly found
That I had come of age.
Fortuna's pernicious daughters
Had swam right up and rattled my cage.

The neighbor's kids are throwing rocks
At southbound rigger trucks.
If I were them, i'd cop a trail
'ere running out of luck.

Batman capes and mud grenades
And bike crusades thru the dirt,
To where little girls in private worlds
Wear mom-creased cotton shirts.

And soon I found I was...
Leaping thru the flaming hoop of love.

Hurtling salacious spitfires to be near you daily
And caress you gaily,
Blindly smacking at passion's piñata,
Spilling myopic, melodramatic, half-witted goatfroth.

Get off on the thirteenth floor, two doors down the hall,
Told the clerk I wouldn't work in air-conditioned malls.
I won't even tell you people just what that bastard said,
I'd half a mind to kick his behind but I saw you instead.

And soon I found I was...
Leaping thru the flaming hoop of love.

Hurtling salacious spitfires to be
Near you darling when ardor's alarm rings,
Pinning the tail on love's donkey while deftly sidestepping
Pre-adolescent, self-centered lubecrust.

But there's no going back,
Those days are gone.
Dissipating like dripping popsicles melted on summer lawns.

I can't go back,
I'm stuck right here.
Penetrating love's chubby mysteries,
Impeding thereby nearly avoiding a contract-laden, adultress-vixen
Purse-suing me down the costly road of litigation.

And soon I found I was...
Leaping thru the flaming hoop of love.

Hurtling salacious spitfires to be at your side
And feel your enamel widen!
Chewing the cheese of love's taco,
Then flossing frustration
And emotionally callow, concupiscent vibrations.

© copyright 1997 Chris Giunta