My Poetic Collage~~~~~~~~~~~~Big"O"

I
“Are you a talker baby?”
Quick! Take off your shoes Dorothy,
So you don’t accidentally click your heels and send us back to a Kansas reality;
Take ‘em off, let me help, Kansas has perpetually bad sports teams-
And where we are now we’re the only athletes stretching out muscular threads;
Let’s remove them...carefully,
We don’t want to break this thread...or leave 'this' place.

II
I want to relive our most post-nostalgic incantation-
Of what is, after all, our still wondrous intonation,
But this time without any intoxication,
This postulation must be without convenient explanation, reprobation-
Or latent accusation;
Your participation must not be tainted by inebriation,
My consternation is likely without true provocation,
It’s more of a selfish expectation, but not without importation,
This should be a source of recreation from instigation to culmination-
That in its initiation is undertaken with all applicable hesitation-
Or none thereof;
I apologize for the interrogation, it is not meant as a castigation,
But for this incarnation I humbly request the following...stipulation:
No ibuprofanization, no acetamenafication, no codeinafication, no skelaxification,
No falsification, only the anticipation...real and without alteration.

III
Her dark aromatic skin, (7)
Beneath my caressing sin, (7)
Moves me from start to finish, (7)
While my own fears diminish, (7)

IV
“ Are you a talker, baby?”
I’m not a fighter I’m a writer...baby.

V
See if you can picture this-
While you re-read this-
The shuffling sound of sawdust on a wooden floor-
The sweet smell of café Cubano in the smoky air-
Low cinematic lighting and a light jazz sax in the background-
Snap your fingers baby, but no too loud, show’s ‘bout to begin...
Again.

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