Sunday, March 27, 2016

Next Time, Honeys

Today they wobbled bare-assed out upon a rope
in hopes I might permit them all to cope

in their collective bumbling way
to get through their perplexing day

and into lurid night.
The scruffily egregious sight

of them was sometimes more than I could stand:
I very nearly used the thick eraser by my hand

to whisk their naked raggedness into oblivion.
But so intent were they on living on

according to their wanton plan,
I thought, oh well, I’d try to be the sort of man

who this time might decide to let them.
But next time, honeys, I will get them.


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