- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Seat Mate
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Minimally packed
with my carry-on kit
room to spare
to nearly fit,
Under the seat
my tray table stowed
electronics set
in-flight mode.
Big Boeing jet
breaks free from the Earth
modern day
Frankincense & myrrh,
Gulping Jet-A
at a prodigious rate
I glance to the right
at my seat mate.
Probably on
a Business Trip
sensible clothes
thin and hip,
Wall Street Journal
Mac computer
hard to imagine
anyone cuter.
But I’m a sucker
for flying females
with brief cases
and manicured nails,
A-line dresses
and sensible shoes
I ask “how ya doin’”
nothing to loose.
We trade life-stores
50 words or less
she’s off to a meeting
in her sensible dress,
I tell her my plans
She smiles: “came I come”
can leave as soon
as the meeting is done.
Of course, I agree
concur on a time
a place to meet
a stairway to climb,
For the rest of the fight
we brush knees and talk
and later that night
click the motel room lock,
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