the whir of the fan
a hot night
dog days in the Breaks
Honey lies on the four poster
reading Hemingway naked
under my shirt
eyeing her through my boxer
shorts the only place i
can see her from lately i
open another Stroh's
the toes of her right foot
caress the left a bare
bulb makes a halo in the
smoke from a dangling
joint she reads about cajones
she won't cry my name tonight
she never has
i'll be another Romeo another Don Juan
another legend Honey only lies
with lies
her books fill musty boxes
covers fading with the wall
paper with my interest
always reading
tomorrow i go under like yesterday
and today to feed us she'll
cook some feast for some guy in
a book she read in the morning
some sword fighter some hero
there's no heroes in a coal mine
just the daylight you come out to
and she ain't gonna read about that