- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Unnatural
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Out walking, warm afternoon.
Across the street, a mismatch –
Woman: Phoebe Cates, Ridgemont era.
Man: refugee from the Android’s Dungeon.
I wonder how they met.
What they talk about.
How they share the same bathroom.
Who does the cooking.
What they have in common.
What their first kiss was like.
How many of her friends he thinks about.
Who does the cleaning.
How often she “has a headache.”
They seem to fuck, but
How impossible that seems!
Still, there’s a stroller in her hands:
Two toddlers aboard.
But she gives me a cool look,
A slight smirk,
And I know they’re not his.
There’s more, though. When I smile back?
She’s thinking about Number Three.
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