(Art schooling)

The beautiful wife (twice my age)
of a famous man
took us to a park to draw.

Later (in a dream),
I asked her why she didn’t hit on me
and why we didn’t make love.

Why do you think we didn’t?
she asked.

* * *

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 16th, 2009 at 02:12 and is filed under Poetry/Literature. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.