No no no
no, now—it's
too late for that;
I'm far too
preoccupied—or maybe
uncertain—
to ask a stone muse like that
to wobble
and dance
with me. Trust me, I
may look sharp
and cunning,
but without somebody's
capable hand down there
guiding the handle, I'm all flash
and dangerous.
Tonight, I've got her
underwear's elastic
strapped tight
to my head
but still, she seems
unimpressed. Guess it's
too little,
probably far too little
and probably too late
for a little magic
like that;
The fact is—
I should have been
thinking
with my private parts
way back,
when she was
just seventeen,
when she knew
what I mean—when
all this didn't
seem pathetic—
when I still
had a chance.
