Monday, November 24, 2014

Casanova (poem)



I wake up thinking of Casanova
He’s a hormone-hound, he is.
Doc says he goes for ladies
with big breasts, but in my case,
I fought to keep the girls and won.
He tried to get a grip last year
on my uterus, which used to teem
with estrogen, but he was shocked
to find no goodies there. I thought
our affair had ended benignly, but no.
Hello, he’s back, all smarmy
and grinning, with kisses along
my throat this time. Casanova
can’t seem to leave me alone. Be
careful when you pray for love
as you can be wooed right out
of the world by my guy, the big C.
I hear he’s fickle but never leaves
my side or alas, my nightly dreams.

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