Friday, December 4, 2009


I mostly remember lust.
Source of great adolescent embarrassment.
Tell tale signs in tight jeans.
Cute girls giggling.

Later married,
Looking at the snow capped Everest
Of my wife's near perfect form.

Anger seems to have taken up
The lodging where lust once lived
Along with avarice, gluttony and covetousness.

Come to think of it,
I miss lust,
Warm blooded in this cold night of sin.

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