Friday, November 11, 2016


by Dawn Pisturino
Honey drips with sweet sensation from her vampire lips,
And the naked round bosom swells with invitation;
Chick is not impressed though his loins beg urgently,
For Death lurks in those baby blue eyes,
And Chick is not prepared to die
For the satisfaction of his loins.
Suddenly the man who bedded a thousand
Is a man with feelings and a sense of pride.
His eyes see new visions in the morning sun.
Life, for him, is more than an elongated erection.
The big word looms in his brain: RELATIONSHIP.
He surveys the choice of women as a connoisseur,
Checking dates and labels, going for the blue ribbon prize.
He awakes alone most mornings now,
But once in a while, in the shadows of night,
A sweet sensation of honey-dew lips caresses his ears,
And Chick is pleasantly surprised:
The woman has a brain.
March 3, 1988
Published in The National Poetry Anthology, 1988
Copyright 1988-2016 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

My Grave

My Grave

Poem by Dawn Pisturino
Illustration by Richard Cunningbot

I think that I shall never crave
A home as lovely as a grave.
A restful place deep in the ground
Without a trace of light or sound.
A grassy mound high on a hill,
Host to yellow daffodil.
And when the snow begins to fall,
I will not be disturbed at all.
A pleasant park is all I need
And visitors who stop to read
The granite marker at my head:
"Rest in Peace to All the Dead!"

October 5, 2011

Published in the November 2011 issue of

Copyright 2011-2016 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.