You might find me boorish
A buffoon with sensibilities from another age
An undereducated hack with perverse interests
Jotting down any ol’ thought on the page
I can be oblivious, sullen & exhausting
Rarely the life of the party, it’s true
You might find me infuriating
But I assure you, my wife does too
Sitting out on the porch swing
Skirt spread flat over rocking legs
Exhausted from the daily routine
Tired of sharing life with the dregs
Closing weary eyes to dream again
Imagining a reassuring, masculine form
Knowing this could finally be different
This could be comfort in the coming storm
Aviation exhaust & diesel fumes
Hands, face & soul; covered in grime
Expectations placed firmly
I’ll relax when we have the time
Wandering this lonely vessel
Before passageway lights go red
Slowly searching these oceans
When I’d rather be with you instead
Captain Q 