Paul-Newell Reaves’
Venus Poems (selection)

copyright, 2008, 2012



0th.) Untied Shoe Laces
1st.) Girl Like You
2nd and 1/8.) Study of a Girl (hard bounce)
3rd.) You’re so Bad
3rd.) If I was Your Boy
3rd.) ‘Nuff Whatevah Girls
3rd.) If I Once Had my Green Guitar
3rd.) Bridge on the Moor

4rth.) Two Students on a Balcony
5fth.) Distance (a feast)
6sth.) Last Night; Girl my Dreams (oh, that sounded like a real goodbye)
7nth.) My Cheek, Your Thigh, Morning
8gth.) Girl Behind the Bar
9nth.) Girl Before Me



0th.) Untied Shoe Laces

Flash, bang, pound, boom;
eyes, attraction, hearts, love—
our eyes connect,
for a moment untamed.
You had untied
my shoe laces,
sitting on the
steps, back of
the school theater.
And, I suppose,
I’ve loved you ever since.



1st.) Girl Like You

I’ve met a girl just like you.
Her facial ticks, her speech mannerisms,
when we love each other,
all recall you to my mind.



2nd and 1/8.) Study of a Girl (hard bounce)

With your legs wrapped
around me, you still wearing
your U. Chicago zip hoodie
— that’ll smell good, tomorrow— I hold
you close, squeeze your B breast.
Again I slip inside you, obtaining idly
all the warmth you possess.
You make me feel.  You make me feel,
when you groan like that and that and—
wow, that one sounded good—
that I need never doubt again.
You promise I will
see you tomorrow; but
then, perhaps never again.
We retreat out the window
to smoke cigarettes on the roof.
I watch you climb through first,
head first, your fine and jiggly ass hanging out
from that ruddy hoodie,
your cootch peeking through your legs.



3rd.) You’re so Bad

Girl, you’re so bad.
Bad like, DAmnnn…
Bad like, Yikes…
Bad like, uh…

Girl, you’re so rad.
Rad like skateboards…
Rad like one tasty, half-priced beer…
Rad like your toes!

Girl, your sooo good.
Good like Nietzsche…
Good like steaming cranberry muffins…
Good like a long game of Star Wars Monopoly…
Good like a thumb war lasting a lifetime… (onetwothreego)
Good like, (sigh)…
Good like, when am I Ever gonna get over her…
Good like BAD.



3rd.) If I was your Boy

I’d take you to every Gala
event, you know, the ones with
tuxedos, red carpets, awards.
I’ll be invited to a number of ‘um.

I’d escort you to the opera
at least three times a year.

I’d— probably— not give a damn if
you cheated on me.  You fine.
Other men might magnetize you.

I’d offer you my arm when we
were walking together.
You’d casually slip your fingers
through the crook of my elbow,
pull me in close.

I’d hold your hand
on your deathbed, or
die trying.

If I was your boy, I’d
ever-so gradually slip
your dress down your shoulders, then
whip off my shirt, and we’d dance
slowly to Billie Holliday, for hours,
in the dark.

I’d say shit like,
Girl, you astound me.
You magnify me.
Stop me from kissing you, go.

Shit.  Oh well.  Submission;



3rd.) ‘Nuff Whatevah Girls (a song)

I am so done with whatevah girls,
I want a clearly-you woman.
Whatevah am so done with I, girls;
I clearly want you, woman.
Done so, I am girls’ whatevah.
Woman, I want You— clearly.
Iiiiiiieee, with a whatevah am so girl-done.
Woman, you want me? Dimly?



3rd.) If I Once Had My Green Guitar

No body love me but my green guitar.
I no want my green guitar.
Now my green guitar no want me.

Maybe that she be a come see me plea.
Maybe I’ll wake up.  Again?
Waking up to no her no fun.
Again, and again, then always again. (heh, clever)
If I, just once, could hear her say,
I green guitar.



3rd.) Bridge on the Moor

There is a bridge, down Taunny Moor,
a lonesome bridge, down Taunny Moor,
I’d meet her there, if she’d forswore
to never kiss another more.

I’d ask her name, pretend I’d forgot;
how long it’s been; how long we’ve fought
each other’s names, as fallen lips
forget the sounds of fallen hearts.

She’d Tell me she is sworn to the sea,
no other lover can come between.
I’d Say, I’m bound for prison, lass,
love me just one Taunny more,
before my life long sentence.



4rth.) Two Students on a Balcony

Wound loosely in each other’s arms, they
cling to what they can of one another.
They clutch with such molten grips.
For hours they sprawl
in the finality of that tidal night,
as the sun sets on that balcony over the city.



5fth.) Distance (a feast)

My happiness is over, sorrow rampant,
woe my only name—
wait, wait, wait,
heartache is a feast.
The stars dilate in place of your eyes,
We converse, alone. (tela’phone)
I recall your taste on my lips
and your scent in my sinuses.



6sth.) Last Night; Girl my Dreams (oh, that sounded like a real good-bye)

Last night, girl?  My dreams.
Last night’s girl: my dream.
Last night, girl, my dreams…



7nth.) My cheek, your thigh, morning

Few hours rough stubble;
smooth, upper, inner, pale brown thigh;
Your fingers in my tawny hair;
sleepy pleasure;
one soft moan.
Resting on concave belly;



8gth.) Girl Behind the Bar

Oh, girl behind the bar,
I love you so
much that I can taste it,
dark, bitter, 6.9% alcohol by volume.

I love you when you tie
your hair behind your head,
tell me you do love your boyfriend.
When you’re dark and stormy,
bitch out those two people fighting,
toss them from the bar.

When you serve me free drinks.



9nth.) Girl Before Me

Girl before me, Girl
before me, flirtatious, squirming.

Girl below me,
Girl above me,

Girl before me,
Girl, push and shove me.

Girl before me,
Girl all lovely.



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