by Les Wicks

I forgot to be dirty.
In brocade & lemonade we courtiers must undress under sun,
yet another new life
new hands, hers strong from the gym I glide underneath
that smile while a gps sleeps in a corner snugged in cardboard.

The river wheezes.
Didn't think I had it in me
stupid love
our words are wigs -
in this cider light
they slip.

I do this for a living. Live
out of habit. Habitually life
fails to cooperate
& I am left standing penless in this teary wonder
that sparks green at the hem of my reach.