STRANGE BUT LOVELY

STRANGE BUT LOVELY

Tall and cerebral he stands
Hair flowing in the eastern breeze
Like an evangelist's locks
Eyes, dead on and deadly in their intensity
He scrutinizes me like a potential play thing from a distance
Blows my mind with unspoken promises that he will never bring to pass
But likes to think he will
Then the strange but lovely man in black stockings
And van dyke beard peers off over my right shoulder at some alien outline
Waiting in the shadows
Winks at me with the devil in his eye
Pulls the camera from my trembling hand
And smashes it into the floor
I am his biggest fan and maybe just as
Strange but will never be as lovely.

©by Voo
April 2, 2006

For Christopher Walken