Forbidden Thing

He knew the game; the game knew him as well;
While she – she wrote the book on all of this.
The things that each had seen, they’d never tell;
The untold fantasies beyond the kiss —

This was to be another in a line
Of many nights that each of them had known.
The early parts were boilerplate, just fine;
When each stepped far into a danger zone

For love, forbidden thing, that ancient shame,
Began to work its way into those two:
You masters think you’ve learned to play the game;
But always, in the end, the game plays you

The Dating Blogger (A Cautionary Tale)

She wrote often on intimate subjects;
He obsessed often about them.
So, to his mind,
They were perfect for each other.

And she lived in the very same city!
So, he contrived to meet her;
Fascinated with this beautiful woman
Who wrote so passionately about
Enjoying physical relations with men —
Sex without relationships.

So, he did meet her.
She was polite, but, most definitely,
Not interested.
He was confused and angry.
How could this be?

Oh, my poor unfortunate friend:
Just because she enjoys dating men,
Doesn’t mean she wants to be with you;
And “Sex without relationships”
Doesn’t mean “Sex with people
You aren’t attracted to.”

The moral of the story
For heterosexual guys looking for
Sex without relationships
Is as follows.

Attractive jerks:
Welcome to the 21st century!
It is all yours.
But then,
It probably was ever thus.

Unattractive jerks:
Sorry dudes.
Life can really suck.

Of course, you COULD
Look for an actual relationship
With a woman
Not based solely on sex.

There is even a rumor out there
The sex in an actual relationship
Is considerably more satisfying.

Love Spasm The Fourth – Postscript

Love Spasm 4b

He asked me was it serious
I said I didn’t know;
But I needed to talk to her
Before I had to go

She lived just down the way
I met her just outside her place:
The breeze was blowing, as
She brushed the hair back from her face

I said, “Last night was wonderful.”
She said, “Yes, it was nice.”
The wind was flowing frigid
As my heart turned into ice

And I realized I’d been thinking that
This girl might be the one —
When she merely passing time

A Short History of Them

All they had.

She was his favorite
Habit, maybe —
Hard to say

He was her surrogate
Plush toy, really —
Just for play

They thought they’d arrogate
Pleasures of the
Flesh and heart –

Left off, wondering
Why they both felt
So apart

Turning Heads, Twisting Hearts

And there she is, on purple roller skates;
Her purple elbow pads and matching socks –
Original, no fear of duplicates,
With longer lines than any ballot box

She’s skating by, and boys are hypnotized;
By further motions they all long to see –
She laughs, but she can also recognize
The signs that mark each future devotee

For she has no illusions on that score;
She knows they’ll come with promises and lies –
And mocks their paltry games and scheming poor,
To window shop for those she classifies

As a nice pup to pick up for a time
Then place back in its cage if it should whine

My Waitress

One night, I took the waitress home.
I really couldn’t tell you why;
It wasn’t on my bucket list
Of things to do before I die

The only thing I felt, I guess,
Was between lust and loneliness;
And I can only now confess
The depths, then, of my selfishness

Why she said “yes,” I couldn’t say.
But recall as though yesterday,
The hope that I saw in her eyes,
That in dismay and with surprise

I knew meant she was wanting more.
A more I did not have to give:
I should have ordered some dessert
And kept my peace, and let her live.

But that was many years ago.
She has moved on, and so have I:
But once, I took the waitress home,
And I can’t really tell you

Tori’s Secret

She hasn’t time to think.

Tori’s got a secret now,
Safe inside her head —
About the young bartender
Who is nightly in her bed

She lets him at night when
She is sure nobody sees:
He comes when e’er he wants to
And he’ll leave just when he’ll please

She hasn’t time to think about
If this is right or wrong —
He wants to play at lovers
And she wants
To play