Words woo
Women
Better than
Wine do!

I dreamed I was there,
Watching the sun in your hair.
Gasping as you jogged past;
Staring at your buns, fast!/

I’d watch you
pass
through
a bad sculpture garden,/
as both of us sculpt and harden/
various body parts./
It’s a start!

Instead of staying up
and caterwauling
and denying my busting nut
by not late-night calling,

Why don’t you instead
do what you should:
Go to bed!
Sleep is good!

So, go to your soft, king sized, where
warm exists, if only in part,
because he’s already there,
leaving dutch oven tarts.

And you can breathe deep, and drink
to my memory, and in the stink.