warents

i was a penis often
to women who haven’t or ever will think of me again.
yup, the guilt and shame of nudity
then the mess
in beds whose really cute cartoon patterns
will never be explained to me.

i’ve watched as women dressed
and glanced at photo frames
on old dressers
then went to wipe my semen off
in their bright warm bathrooms.
the phone rang and i went home
or to the bar
and was twice as lonely when the whole thing began.

sure the equine encouragement
from a near stranger
was thrilling
and too
the initial terror and warm forgiveness
of penetration
was
encouraging.

also in my own right
i’ve been recognized
by people arm in arm
with money and diner plans
who asked who i was with
while on the way somewhere dark...
but the real grief
of the bedspreads,
dressers and photo frames
whose stories I never new
haunt me in my alcoholic old age.