I LIKE THE
WAY…
I like the
way that shirt fits.
Yes,
flannel can look girly.
Where Were You?
I looked
not
everywhere only in the piazza,
the square,
the exquisitely well-lit
Plaza Mayor.
I am not ready
to climb
over nor under everything
thin,
uneven or crooked to find you.
No bridges,
no canals in Venice, no buttered
scones or
stack of waffles sticky with syrup
consumed non-intellectually
in a Berkeley diner
while I speculate
about the ins-and-outs of your body.
On the
other hand, glad I haven’t met you yet. Me,
that folly
on two legs, its tongue hanging out, saying
how do you
do, nice to meet you, the pleasure’s all yours.
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