The Poetic Side Of The Ass

THE POETIC SIDE OF THE ASS
by Silvio Vinci

I brought a book of borrowed lines,
you brought the rain in on your shoes.
I tried to talk about the stars;
you said, “Put on some rhythm and blues.”

I had a theory about love,
you had your feet up on my chair.
The record crackled, you leaned back—
my words went nowhere in the air.

Slow down, baby,
let the whole world pass.
A little velvet, a little brass—
the poetic side of the ass.

I wore my wisdom like a coat,
two sizes bigger than my skin.
You found the tear beneath the sleeve
and slipped your little finger in.

I made you laugh to hide the ache,
you let the silence have its say.
You whispered, “Love, you’re such an ass,”
then kissed me slowly anyway.

No clever line.
No grand design.
Your tired eyes,
your hand in mine.

Slow down, baby,
let the whole world pass.
A little velvet, a little brass—
the poetic side of the ass.

Leave that book upon the floor.
Let the needle turn some more.

Slow down, baby…
You don’t have to laugh.