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A Succotash




who can sustain interest
in ecstatic parasites,
in erotic tournaments
regulated with the cynicism of business?

give me vice unmonetized,
the economy should respond to our needs,
not determine them

how many of my tastes
have I acquired through misfortune?

there are women
of every shade and scent
in my words
which are little more
than skin and laughter

words still willing
to be amiable
or even amorous
with strangers

bendy cheapgirls
who make of sex
a succotash
until we learn
sharing isn't giving

women and words
are clouds
I try to see shapes in

compulsively critiquing
my extraordinary renditions

how to condemn voyeurism
when I so want to see
everything?

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.