Love Poem: My Sweet Susan
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Written by: Dave Collins

My Sweet Susan

(9th grade love affair with a blind cream boy and a sweet voice finger stroke magic girl in the 60's, 
unfettered with a keen process of kissing vertical in the Clark hall, hoping to go   un-but ever noticed, but a feather in every boys, my boy, cap of having a good girl well within their, and no one elses' grasp, yes it would get around thank God for me, skinny Dave, yes so skinny I couldn't even capitaize my name on that issue of skin-y, yet you with your sweet temperment, your love scorpio voice, big brown eyes, and love countenance,  we said a, a my only a convenient horizontal floor limelight sentimemnt atop each other and and blended tried to blend our love waves together. So different/indifferent, yet so  uniparental in pain in a decade biscuit of all-over-the-place-with-almost irreverent social emos, that we didn't know if we were cominggoingbeentheredonethat in a non sequitar imbalance of two people caught in a love timeframe of youth without any uni-versal guidane, but a platitiude of oneness with each other when it, a non coital countenance illrequired reared its awful head. The then Teen sexuality unleashed in a fervor of top/up tear/drop down frivolity and wet/dry/measured sexual ignorrumorousindifference, yet timely disuaded and semen (hopefully)but cheered inefficient. No little illegit Collins' running around this planet due to a/my failure to launch. The count down was always go/so, but Liftoff was always in question with a me internal/ever non-answer, "Scrub the Emission man" due to unfavorable environmental conditions, should anything unfortunate give a naked arise to an unpleasant superficial. I applaud your female rambo askance/push/shove/kick my ass presence for the allotment of my bodily poorly tuned teen socio-demented sperm prowess. 
Since I had no male role model of any kin kind, oh wait, a brother who inflated a girl at 14, a father who died at 5, and an emovacant mom, WTFDYDWTB? 
Do the grammar man, all you millenial miniscules. 
Then, Enter the Rabbit! (Yea, like Enter the Dragon") Bless u and all those that conjured, cared, contributed and craped to the survival of that black and white thing, esp, Linda. We shared a special animal like convenience/contrivance, life bond, heterosensual configuration that belies a subjective definition. Here, now, remembered,enlivened, believed, mysterious, yet potentialized. Cool, baby, love u. We are reborn in a remittance of calculated time spooled, counter found, erased framed, bullet targeted, dot heavenated and encircled in an dumbfounded cunumdrum. Pass the potatoes please?