Your idols weren’t half the men
They thought they were half a bottle in
Cowardly hiding behind unjust traditions
Sinning while gulping juniper medicinal gin
Their women languishing in the shadows
Cast off from any chance to reach the light
Yet those damsels can see through the dark
The perfect heroine to save an errant knight
Misconstrued notions of dynamic parity
Swabbing the deck with your fallen idol
Ink smudges & literary drudges
Methinks – their mothers should’ve used spermicidal
Excuse me, Miss
I need help between the books
You look down your glasses at me
Don’t worry about their errant looks
You’re dressed mighty nice
I think it’s by the back shelves
It seems I’ve gotten us lost
Oh my, I think we’re by ourselves
I pull you in close
A hand sneaks under your skirt to play
You moan aloud; onlookers’ smile
Apparently we’re still on display
Image by Eli Digital Creative from Pixabay
Wandering in the forest without a notion
With my lovely bride by my side
Looking up at the wonders of nature
Between the trees there’s no room to hide
Finding seasons we don’t know at home
Rain, snow & all other forms of emotion
Transparent dreams offer no resistance
Treasures washed away by the errant ocean
Last season’s vintage with coffee stains
Spelling out what we might genuinely need
Hope we might outlive our transgressions
Errant dispatches; all the ones you forgot to read
Reading the errant pages
Crumpling after each one is read
A gentle eye befallen the paper
Revising what each one has plead
Wastebasket- a lifetime away
Hoping it’s not the destiny of them all
Slowly, sacred thoughts form
Living in the weird space of my scrawl
