the prostitute clams have gone missing

[Cate]

I was just about to respond to bounce off of that poem ... but I didn't think to save it. There was a line about tudraful silstitude (wonderful solitude) and a clever line about a tube and I think a vesicitude?

well I'll post mine anyways ... if there are any other poems about hard working clams feel free to add.


Hooker clams in spandex
and low cut polyester
crowd the corner,
looking for a date.

One displays his red painted toe
and knock off Gucci bag from the 80’s.
He’s in need of some
serious cash to feed his
ladies plankton addiction.

A car slows.
He does his
best Marilyn swoon
but the prick speeds off.

Down the way, a fight
breaks out between two muscles
vying for a John who's into
pearls, in the end
the three leave together.

Hours pass as do the tricks.
Painted Toe, lights
a cigarette and heads
to Finnegan's for a beer.
Perhaps tomorrow will bring better luck.





(edit to add line breaks and fiddle with end)

[lizzytysh]

I MUCH prefer yours, Cate.
It's a keeper.

[Cate]

Thanks Lizzy - perhaps I could start a collection of poems for slimy things.

[lizzytysh]

"Prostitutes, Slugs, and other Slimy Things"?

[Cate]

oh prostitutes are not slimy - I've nothing against the profession or the professionals.

I only meant the slugs/snails and clams.

[Cate]

Moderatum trowseless
ad despearatum
Brover Geofree
2 crotches!
WhO can say?
Applez not always
THE ANSWOR!

maybe? I don't know... I can't figure out what you are saying.

[lizzytysh]

Ah, okay... thanks for the clarification. That seemed a bit judgmental for you. Forgot that you'd mentioned clams .

[lonndubh]

I really like your working class clam poem Cate .
I wonder did the moderators catch Quailey Backside and abolish him /her lock ,stock and barrell from leonardcohenforum.com.It left me hanging in mid air not quiet knowing which alleyway to go

Anyway i had a go at another little ditty containing Clams too ;


moderatum disappearum
on yellow crutches Geoffory
temporarly
how much ridey
your clam
who can say?

modestly with no trousers
naked bed dancing

can I play in apple sauce?
cold as eyes
paracritic alterations

hysteria wistering
faking Quail?

in an alleyway
of no returning
late for freedom
early for breakfast
who can say?

We will remove quails-Yes we will
but the heart is untouchable
like a clam in cider
wrapped in a barbed wire
electric fence!

[Violet]

.. now, uh, Lady L.. why doesn't it surprise me that you seem to be some sort of "fish" relative?

.. [though this place is clearly for the birds]..

.. [for the record: it was "something in the way you spell"]..

.. hmm.. [need to add this to my list]..

[Violet gets her lengthening list out]..

[lonndubh]

.. now, uh, Lady L.. why doesn't it surprise me that you seem to be some sort of "fish" relative?

.. [though this place is clearly for the birds]..

.. [for the record: it was "something in the way you spell"]..

.. hmm.. [need to add this to my list]..

[Violet gets her lengthening list out]..

Sorry Violet but it isnt me
So Please mark me off your lengthening list
But I do have my suspicions too
And about the spelling --Well I do apologise
Me thinks its dyslexia

[Violet]

.. it's funny, lonndubh, but I honestly have no idea what to say at this point: I've run out of script, and that's unusual for me [as you probably know]

just baffled.

.. anyway.. as I.F. would say.. it doesn't matter, it's all imaginary anyway.. [or something like that] [sorry if I've misquoted you, I.F.]

[later note: I'd qualify this to say, I don't think of myself as "imaginary," even as the circumstance requires us to in some manner "author" ourselves.. but that's just to do with context, I would say.. not intent]

.. anyway, to me.. let's see.. you're this.. hmm.. I would have to say mercurial Irish woman, with that Irish love of poetry, and even romance, maybe.. though you're insistent on it's being about oneself, I think.. I mean, that's where your emphasis is, I'm pretty sure. Of course, one could say that about reality itself, but.. again, we're talking about emphasis, maybe..

Perhaps you wrote a poem.. or.. maybe you posted another's poem.. about the shadow, no?.. do you remember?

wait, I just looked it up:

One day in autumn
You came to me.
You came.
To my lonely heart
You came .
Until it was time for you to go.

Like a prized rose
You came.
You sipped from my cup.

I did not know your name
But I loved you all the same.
I thought I touched your soul-
Maybe it was your shadow.

Did I see in you
What you could not yet see ?
A perfect crimson rose
Dismantled on the breeze.

.. I guess my question is: what would be the difference between touching someone's soul, or touching someone's shadow?.. I'm interested in how you would describe that difference.. I mean, I know they're not the same thing.. and yet.. to me, well, is not the whole of a person "touched?".. how do you see the difference, in other words?

v. x

[imaginary friend]

Lonndubh,

I loved your Saddest Poem. Nice to see it here as well.

(Anyway V, back to what you were saying... sorry to interrupt )

[Cate]

Ah, okay... thanks for the clarification. That seemed a bit judgmental for you. Forgot that you'd mentioned clams .

you forgot the clams? I had them dressed up and everything.

I really like your working class clam poem Cate

Thank you.

Anyway i had a go at another little ditty containing Clams too ;


moderatum disappearum
on yellow crutches Geoffory
temporarly
how much ridey
your clam
who can say?

modestly with no trousers
naked bed dancing

can I play in apple sauce?
cold as eyes
paracritic alterations

hysteria wistering
faking Quail?

in an alleyway
of no returning
late for freedom
early for breakfast
who can say?

We will remove quails-Yes we will
but the heart is untouchable
like a clam in cider
wrapped in a barbed wire
electric fence!

I love it!!!
Can I play in Apple sauce - very random but such a weird and interesting image.
I like how you've even included Geoffrey's crutches.

[Manna]

You said, "Love is touching souls."
Surely you touch mine
'cause part of you pours
out of me in these lines
from time to time.

There's no phrasing like Joni's phrasing. I haven't been here in for-like-ever. I haven't even lurked. But today I guess I felt like it again. I like your poem, Cate. And I miss you. xoxo.

Also - your title reminded me of "The Piano has been Drinking."
har har.

[lonndubh]

I guess my question is: what would be the difference between touching someone's soul, or touching someone's shadow?.. I'm interested in how you would describe that difference.. I mean, I know they're not the same thing.. and yet.. to me, well, is not the whole of a person "touched?".. how do you see the difference, in other words?

It might get lost in translation
So all I can say is


You did touch my soul
I leaned to its sigh
May your body not rest
But long just for me
May your love follow me
And mine follow you
As the sun follows the moon
From now till the hour that I die