Some Fun

Feeling less than sultry
in the dawning morning light –

sitting half-awake in the ill-fitting

irony of her pink-hearted bathrobe –

one importuning suitor at her left,
another at her right –

she’d once supposed
ménages-à-trois might be all right

before she’d had one.
By now whatever slight

je ne sais quoi her two relentlessly
attentive boy toys

might have had for her
had run its run. Some fun’s no fun.

The end of love
can be abrupt.

Especially when you
make the whole thing up.




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