She was a face from a 50’s Pulp magazine.
Cool for sleaze.
Comfort for boys who needed an outlet for
busty worship.
Lipstick too red.
Dress too tight.
A harlot in distress for libido.
Cigarette inhaled; tits heaved then
expanded…a cloud of billowy smoke
surrounds her devilish charm.
Haze of sultry between streams of tobacco.
Ultra-vixen that Wally or the Beav never
mentioned to Dad on the car ride to Friends Lake.
Dames like her were strictly beat-off propriety.
Photos hidden under feared mattresses.
Hoping never to be found by Hugh Beaumount.
Dan Provost has been published throughout the small press for many years. He is the author of nine books and lives in Berlin, New Hampshire with his wife Laura.
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