5/8/08: I can't get no ...
GROWING MICK JAGGER LIPS
By Timothy Pettet
Thinking about dating,
I touch my lips,
contemplate a kiss,
wonder, will it ever be better
than that night in the college town.
At the juke box, she saw
my quarter drop, poked out
her lips, imitated Mick
singing, “uh-no, no,
no...” I lifted my left foot,
slid toward her on my right.
Our lips grew to a perfect “O” -
just a quiver away. We growled
with the crowd, “I can’t get no...”
Satisfaction? I used to sit
in the tub until the water went cold,
writing notes to my therapist, saying,
satisfaction is what I want, asking
what it would be like
if satisfaction were what I got,
would my wife like to kiss
if I had lips like Mick.
Now, a red-haired
honkey-tonk flame
has been watching me dream.
I want her to check out
the progress of my pout, teach me
the trick of my tongue in her mouth,
give me a taste of her brown sugar,
take satisfaction from a lick of my salt.
