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My Old Flames

She was my old flame
I can never remember her name;

she often tried to bite me,
at times it did excite me,

she was my old flame.

My gal Christine
she was pretty, slender, and mean;

she was such a vamp,
in fact was quite the tramp,

she was but a teen.

Then came Shirl
who really made my life twirl;

when she left me I got sad,
She treated me so bad,

thought she was the girl.

Then came Anne
I feared she might be a man;

she'd slap me on my ass,
and was built like Mama Cass,

from her I finally ran.

Next came Betty
we always got busy, and sweaty;

we both had hated Nixon,
she really was a vixen,

she was always "ready".

They were my old flames
I can never remember their names;

they always tried to bite me,
at times it did excite me,

they're all my old flames.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft

About the Author

Region, Country: The High Desert, in the wild west, southern California, U.S. of A.., USA

Favorite Poets: Keates, Poe, Dickinson, and Dr. Seuss. There are a smattering of others, but why bother listing 'em all, ya know?, I also rely on a few of our poets, here....for advice, and what not. I couldn't possibly explain what a fountain of live, effective knowledge we have...right here in our midst ! To catch a glimmer of brilliance, merely visit: the Stream.

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Comments

docmaverick

docmaverick

13 years 11 months ago

you, my dear....

...are very most probably correct. I was under the spell, and intoxication of, "my old flames".
As always, I custumarily was waayyy too quick.
I can hear the cuteness of your giggle.
docmaverick.