- Erotic Poetry
- Path of Least Resistance
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In the glow
of the Beck’s Beer sign
mountain bar
lost in time,
Dirty boots
and Wrangler jeans
not worth
a hill of beans,
End of the week
after work
what sort
of demons lurk,
In the bowels
of our recesses
drink our beers
and take our guesses,
We order food
burgers and fries
you wipe your hands
on your thighs,
From your waist
to your knees
smile at me
your lovely tease,
Two more beers
a five-piece band
all the noise
we can stand,
You and me
a dozen others
dance like
future lovers,
The night progresses
dance and drink
getting closer
to the brink,
Two a.m.
when the joint shuts down
we all spill out
on the town,
Find a place
to sleep, or screw
take our chances
me and you,
Then back at work
Monday morning
a slight scent
of bridges burning,
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