All the boys have boners
on Main Street because
it’s the middle of May and
all the girls are walking
up and down in halter tops
and their shortest short shorts.
The sidewalk’s slapped to death
by flip-flops, the storefronts reflect
the latest sunshine, the sunny smiles
of the light-headed bonerboys,
and the siren song of the
long-legged short-shorts Maygirls.
Everywhere he looks, someone’s
walking or driving by his bookstore
café window, passing but not escaping
his pen-and-ink eyeball, putting on
a show for his paper memory machine.
Two new lovers come in for tea.
She’s so beautiful he can hardly
write her down, and he’s so busy
feeling her out he doesn’t even notice
the man at the adjacent table
scribbling in his journal.