Is it preferable to be decorous
And bow gracefully
To the man who holds all the cards?
The one I love,
And pine for?
He recognized instantly I was
Still am, always will be
Deep in love?
Deep in the arts?
Deep in the throat?
Or is it preferable to get angry?
Which does he deserve?
He said to guard against
A man of few words, but he managed
To say “obtrusive” to me
And I was hurt but I apologized
To the man who holds all the cards
He keeps himself in check
He won’t let a single card slip by
Although he shows them all to me
Just so I know what I am missing
“Look, this is the king of hearts,” he says
“What a specimen!”
“Look, here’s the queen of hearts, a sad lady,
How come such sadness?” he asks
He knows how come, he’s a pretender
Each card signifies a loss
Each one reminds me of my job:
Entertain him, caress his vanity
Well, why stop at a caress?
How about a good old b and j
His vanity deserves it
After all he practices his hobby
With superlative artistry
He is the poet of seduction
Forgive me, I sound obtrusive, I know.
Hard to avoid obtrusiveness, hard to be graceful
Plus, he knows how to think
Which makes him even more desirable.
I crave the gamut.
I address him:
Will you draw me into the raw,
Uncloaked intimacy of your orbit?
I am such a lousy card player!
August 14, 2014