Person is Not a Rude Word

… & when personal relations appear to be perpetually going down the pan, then it’s pleasing to come upon some past [proetic] positives for being Aspie…

(+ to ponder the mysteries of the silent ‘p’ in psychic)

Minding Your ‘P’s on Cue

Strolling across the lawns for
a picnic with poetry in the park
I became possessed with minding our ‘p’s on cue.
We searched for a sheltered spot by a stream
(that remind one of other pimply and pissy words)
because the wind was up and I said
‘it’s parky’ when the sun hid behind the clouds.
You called the sky perfect, only you pronounce it perfick.
I got out the flask of peppermint tea,
and cucumber sandwiches – salted but not peppered.
You told me ghost stories, but we didn’t hit on
poltergeist. (And when you said your acupuncturist
had pressed your points to do with fear of people
we didn’t mention paranoia or panic, only agoraphobia.
We were playing this game protectively.)
Then you kissed me on the cheek,
and I said ‘there’s one: pecks’.  You thought
that I meant pectorals and pointed
to your quads!  Later as our cues were down
I gave you a pinch and a punch – like on the
first of the month – but these were on your bicep.
And I asked you if your mother ever called
you a ‘pestilential pumpkin’?  No, you said,
and told me the Hebrew for cow and cows which
began with a ‘p’ but I don’t recall the singular nor plural…
You read the poetry – e e cummings and another one
about the hoi-poloi coming to the opera.
But when you kissed me on the lips
that was the real performance – especially
for the drama students perched on the hill.
Just as well they didn’t know your purple pants
were in my bag as they might perchance have
got even more pop-eyed…
But don’t let me get pernickety;
it really was a peachy afternoon
Poppet.

©  Luc(e) Raesmith  (circa 1995)

thanks Home Skillet for the cucumber sarnies pic:

http://hskillet.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/cucumber-sandwiches.html