Sunday, June 01, 2008

Questionable Taste

What do you like,
he says afterwards.
They're propped up on
pillows, not smoking,
wishing they had
something to do
with their hands.  
Her eyes follow
the shadowed gap
between the ceiling
and wall, wondering,
once again,
what lives in there.

3 comments:

Michael said...

LOL since I've often asked that same question, I love it!

greg rappleye said...

Great poem. Not so sure about the title.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Yes! Exactly and precisely!