The Boy in the Floral Skirt

The boy in the floral skirt,

sneakered, blond, with eyes made up,

walking around without a shirt,

Zeus would have chosen to bear his cup.


Hardly past needing a babysitter,

shoulders adorned with sparkling glitter,

he or she, they or whatever,

young and cute and far too clever.


Copyright 2018

T. Allen Culpepper

So White

His alabaster skin so white

he might be some forest elf

who lives in shade, afraid of sunlight,

but beautiful as Narcissus himself,

the slender youth sits, or rather, perches,

leaning forward, his doe eyes searching,

with eager lips parted, his embouchure

primed to meet and suck in the future.

Copyright 2018

T. Allen Culpepper

Who’s for Lunch?

A friendly mover in green trainers,

red T-shirt and cut-off khakis;

fuzzy soul patch, hair contained

by baseball cap, brim turned back.


Not gym-built but fit and able,

unloading and installing tables–

and picking up some lunch to go.

To go where, I’d like to know.


Copyright 2014

T. Allen Culpepper


Dark hair, rather scruffy beard,

buying supplies for home improvement,

but with a touch of the hippie spirit,

and an outdoorsy kind of movement.


Wearing tank, retro striped,

over shorts, with boots for hiking.

Maybe a bit of a fixer-upper,

but he’d do well enough.


Copyright 2014

T. Allen Culpepper