This poem is intended as a playful combination of a look at virtual reality and Iggy Pop’s new CD combined kinda….

Feeding Her Carnal
by Michael Romani

With a teatime dub
She laughingly rubs
Flowing into the nocturnal
The lady feeds her carnal

With the gasp of a spacious mind
The exotic tickles what she finds
Amused with a leather singularity
She breathes deep in her restless creativity

Rippling into her escalation
There is an algorithm of exasperation
Hers is a rock-n-roll ritual
Feeding her carnal as if habitual

Symbolic in her frantic frolic
As if her life feels the clock tick
She comes on strong like a blowtorch in bondage
Covering her scars in groove of bandage

Covering up an angel's heart
With her tiger eyes; she rips apart
An exuberance of pleasure
Bounced like sunlit wings of treasure

Sometimes finding her feathery restraints
Are disgruntling in the personal constraints
Especially, when her electro jingle comes at high tempo
There is a death of innocence in her shadow

She signs her love on the dotted line
An then proceeds to blow my mind
Her rock-n-roll skin continues to unfold
A love like hers has no chance of getting old

(c) August 11, 2018  Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved