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