MISS SPROAD LOVES.

[dadio]

Miss Sproad loves
To recline on her

Leopard’s skin rug
And dream of the

Men that might drop
In, although they

Seldom do, and if by
Some freak accident

They happen upon her:
Mailmen, deliverymen,

Grocer’s boys, they
Make sure they don’t

Go back again, except
The very brave or

Foolish or outright
Desperate and one

Guy from the Bronx
Who had poor eyesight

Stayed the night, having
Kinky sex and long drawn

Lectures on Mahler’s
Symphonies and Cubist

Art, but mostly she sleeps
Alone imagining she has

The guy downstairs in her
Bed, making the hottest

Love and debating the
Picasso dame and face

And looks, or else she
Decides none are worth

Her time or love or sexy
Frame and reads her books.

[hester_prynne]

Or maybe lectures on Coltrane and Sarah Vaughan's phrasing.....

Enjoyed this read
H

[saw]

good work......cool painting.....

[Hollweg]

I don't understand what is not to love about the Ms. Sproad of your poem. She sounds perfect to me.

[dadio]

Thank you all.