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.
