kthread rhymes: vim & vigor
Tonight, I sipped goat milk kefir, thought about modern womanhood and Dorothy Parker’s witticisms, and wrote this poem (as usual, still a draft):
Vim & Vigor
She shuffles the dating matrix,
dealing deftly for Friday night;
the Cowboy deserves Saturday;
the new guy just took a late flight.
I watch her play with those quick hands,
quite bored, she looks up, mock despair;
just then, then phone buzzes, asking–
she tilts her head; no, not a pair.
Unlucky nights, there is crying,
facedown are old pictures of Him;
business cards pile up, discarded;
a door slams: caprice, whimsy, whim.
She turns up the King of Diamonds,
draws him to her suite though she vowed
not to choose unavailable;
she’ll say, “I hope we weren’t too loud.”