Tonight's Poet Corner: The Purple Pony

The Purple Pony
by Belinda Roddie

The Purple Pony is where I met my love,
where I burst like a neon supernova,
drenched in sweet sweat and red wine
on the worn out dance floor,
while she swung me around until
I saw sequins instead of stars.

I drank tequila and cider at the Pony,
and she had a mocktail, reminding me
to be careful of my intake. We smoked
a bowl outside and avoided the sirens.
She let me kiss her on the cheek
after she avoided my lips.

I was a piñata ready to break
and shower confections like rain.
She was warforged iron, incapable
of being defeated. Thus, I left
the Purple Pony without my dame.
If she'll have me, she'll tell me,
smiling, over a Shirley Temple.



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