Kiss Like Jagger
The night before his sex-reassignment surgery,
I kissed Mick Jagger goodbye.
(surgery deemed necessary to increase today’s
relevancy for a rock band with fifty-plus years
of formulaic riffs and moves.)
His mouth was wrinkled and stiff.
He was hesitant at first.
He said, “She (Gladys, that is) won’t let me.”
But, once I put my lips on that famous pout,
he relaxed into the kiss.
A kiss lasting but a few seconds,
brief, but thorough.
As our faces moved apart,
his eyes found their smile.
Relinquishing a 76-year old rooster’s ego won’t be easy.
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