Torso of a Grooming Model with Serious Face

Shirtless, mostly smooth, just a

trace of hair along his sternum,

he stands, head tilted forward, arms crossed,

right hand at elbow, left under arm,


thumb brushing nipple, looking serious,

even perhaps a touch imperious.

Dark straight hair’s rather short,

but layered with scissors,  not buzz-cut.


Cleft chin, face fresh and freshly shaven,

his brown eyes offering a safe haven.

Muscles toned but not muscle bound.

If he were mine, I’d want to keep him around.


Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper

Starts with an O

The name was something related to “ocean,”

but the front man mumbled and I didn’t quite catch it,

a band of kids set up on a patch

of scruffy grass to administer a dose


of music at the farmers’ market—

two guitars, keyboard, drum kit.

Not bad at all, chill music for

a sultry evening in the park.


The singer’s hot, with perfect look

for summer gig: tie-dye tank,

orange cotton shorts, barefoot,

bright yellow band around his ankle


drawing attention to sun-tanned feet,

sexy when to a pedal lifted.

He says he’s sweating in the heat,

but he’s at ease as well as gifted.


Drummer’s cute too, with light-brown skin,

well-dressed dreads, a laidback mood;

a second-guitarist, long-haired, big-shoed,

and keyboard player, adding fills in.


They make a talented ensemble,

and though the crowd this evening’s small,

this gig is only a preamble;

with time they’ll be playing concert halls.


Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper





Dude at the New Coffee Place

Tee, cap, and trainers are black;

likewise the classic plastic glasses,

but mustard painter’s pants he’s hacked

off below the knee mash things


up a bit. Blond hair close cut,

the beard longer and scruffier, but

still appealing; he has some tattoos,

one of them new, still bandaged loosely.


His voice is deeper than I expect

(we’re both in line for coffee; I’m next),

deep, rich low-end baritone.

I wouldn’t mind hearing it at home.


Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper


Curly hair and beard, light brown,

or maybe more dark blond, with just a bit

of red mixed in, his head down,

working on his laptop in fits


and starts. Earbuds in, he’s also

on the phone, having a convo

that sounds too worklike to be fun.

Is he interested or just wanting to be done?


In knit pullover, chinos, sandals,

looks like he’s in for the long haul–

empty tray with crumbs of food,

coffee cup with standing spoon,


quarter-full glass of something brownish,

could be tea or could be beer.

I wonder how long he’s been here,

if he’s noticed I’m around.


Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper