Lovely Tours
Miriam
says to me
maybe we
can look round
you and me
sure
I say
and so when
the coach stops
we get out
and wander
keeping close
to others
from our coach
the hippie
couple there
out in front
he bearded
with a band
round his head
and his girl
with long hair
hanging loose
both smoking
Miriam
takes my hand
her own hand
small and warm
pulse going
her red hair
all tight curls
her bright eyes
over me
isn't it
exciting?
I don't do
exciting
I just look
and take in
and enjoy
I tell her
we walk on
through the streets
look in shops
look at stuff
she holds things
in her hands
handles them
values them
like last night
in the coach
in Paris
lying down
in our seats
us kissing
her fingers
exploring
my hot crotch
my fingers
spidering
up her thigh
as music
on the coach
radio
eases out
Beethoven's
piano piece
concerto
number 5
or such like
and she's there
holding me
my fingers
spidering
to her nest
lights dim low
music flows
down the rows
of coach seats
some sleeping
some talking
some of us
making out
best we can
in dim light
in Paris
over night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem