Non-Erotic PoetrySingapore KnightsMango sliced on hotel china
perfumes heavy Malay air
condensation beads on a silver knife
fall in perfect drops
Muffled door slam and stumbling laughter
nudge memories when
smoking and drinking
had no guilt
hangovers lasted only 24 hours
and the only person calling anyone daddy
was paid to do so
Easy enough to slip downstairs
where single malt
single girl
elixirs
coax graying egos
into testosterone gods
expert in bacchanalian
Insider trading
Maybe tomorrow.
Today, there is the fruit plate.
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