It’s getting cold.
They’re getting bold(er).
Passing out smarmy smiles and laughable smolders
Meet eyes and hold
Shoot your shot is what they’re told
To tell him off or give the cold shoulder?
But a little attention amounts to (fool’s) gold
He knows that is all it takes, so monkey lines are doled
Longing for a man’s touch enough to fold
Onto the mattress, into his wife’s mold
Shook, rattled and rolled
Just two minutes to drop his load
Wham! Bam! You’ve been had and now you’re old.
Next © 2019 K. Wright