2.02.2009

a poem: "tour de force"

I captured you against your own will.
You want to resist but can't sit still.
I'm shooting my shotgun at your feet.
Your head bobs trying to dodge the beat.
There's no lacking the cracking of whips.
There's no faking the shaking of hips.
Work you off the wall to the floor by force.
You're my slave and that's my tour de force.

3 comments:

Melissa Donovan said...

This one is excellent! You've got internal rhymes, alliteration, and assonance, plus it's short and sweet. Awesome poem, and it's fun. Are you going to reveal what it's about?

Anonymous said...

You wrote that? You go! It sounds very naughty.

t.sterling said...

It's about music, and music is a sexy slavemaster.