Gentina Art

A Poem

By

John Presco

Baring a shoulder

flashing a bit of knee

I am torn

torn in love

her thumb at

the point of the heat

I have never been to Argentina

She stick her symbols

innocuous festive people

having their way

with her nudity

she can not own completely

an arrow

pointing

this way and then that

fails to distract me

Always

those brown brown nipples

the flying saucers

stuck in her arm pits

can she guess I am

a small breast man

intrigued by her long face

born of

the long-faced kings