Jimmy peers from the cover of the magazine, his freshly manicured bottom winking, showing just enough secrets, perched above the point of slipping down, asking the photographer to hurry up because I can't hold this pose, should I pull 'em down more? Would that be funnier? Hasn't this been done before? Wrench held aloft, arm going soft, he fights back gas, smirks, is already measuring regret.© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2013
Image: © RollingStone 2013
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