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Winter

 

I stepped outside and crisp air mixed with face like aftershave, despite the
serrated bramble of my infant beard. It never rains in LA, but the Latina
weathergirl witha waist like drizzle flowing into hips like downpour, mouthed
suggestive words like: wet, positioning itself, down South, forecasting my bike-

ride to work this morning would be an adventure. I strapped my satchel onto the
back, rolled up my pantleg, and pedaled away. Violent wind ruffled my hair
berating me for not wearing a helmet. Roly-poly raindrops bathed my body
transforming my track jacket and jeans into an Old Navy wetsuit. My tires

struggled to grip the road, more like river of Mother Nature’s bitter spermicide.
Better to be a nomad trekking the Sahara searching for the next oasis, a newly-
wed barreling down Niagara Falls, or an eager out of shape tourist trudging up
the Eifel Tower determined to reach the zenith for a postcard view of the

Mediterranean. Summer couldn’t come fast enough I thought, as I slogged down
the boulevard. Season when the busty beauty’s forecast called for hot nights,
warm fronts, and rising mercury, spicy syllables lingering on the  tip of her
Spanish tongue, like French kisses in July.

 

**** Read more poems like this by me >>>>> HERE

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About Daniel Romo

Author of When Kerosene's Involved (Mojave River Press, 2014) and Romancing Gravity (Silver Birch Press, 2013). I'm partial to prose poems. And fragments.

7 responses »

  1. Hi, I found you through Indood.com. You have a fabulous writing style Daniel. Loved the piece above, so playful and full of life.

    Reply
  2. Never really cared for the term ‘french kiss’–which is in direct contrast to how I feel about the practice–but something about the phrase ‘French kisses in July’ is really doing it for me.

    (Hm. I’m sure I had a more coherent and less embarrassing introductory comment around here somewhere.)

    (Hello.)

    Reply
    • Thanks for the comment Ani. July seemed to fit. Not sure if this is your first comment here, but this one’s not incoherent or embarrassing at all.

      Reply
  3. Hello,
    Have you visited antiquechildren.com–a mischievous bilingual literary arts journal. We are looking for prose and poetry as well as art and we would love to feature some of your work.
    –John Paul Jaramillo

    Reply
  4. Thanks Joesph. Some pretty okay lines in here if I say so myself. And imagine the words that spill from those lips…

    Reply
  5. There are some absolutely wonderful turns of phrase here, one after another; I think “Mother Nature’s spermicide” is my favorite. I scrolled down after reading this splendid piece, though, and saw the weathergirl, and just cracked up. Something about the expression. Couldn’t help myself. :)

    Reply

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