Sticky Pages

I found a man

At a market stall,

That tickled me.

He tried to sell me deviancy,

Romance and comedy,

In one head to toe glance.

The parrot on his shoulder stared

Into me

When he couldn't hold my eyes.

It chapped away on stale sunflower seeds

From his jacket pocket

While I scanned crime genre I didn't intend to read.

Long black hair,

Clamoflauge,

And a smile big enough to share.

Sell me your well read erotica

And the melody you suck and blow

From that harmonica.

I found your sticky pages, Endearing.