Cat, Not Bear

Imprecise, laborious, slow, these courtship routines
Try my patience. Would that I could ape the lout,
And simply say, “We ought to fuck,” but I don't
Have his self-regard, or his disrespect for women.
Anyway, my latest interest seems, though I don't
Know her well, to have the poise, the taste, the manners,
To dismiss that sort of man. The lout's a bear. I'm
More a cat. I circle slowly, stepping very carefully.
I hold my tongue, and listen to the things she says.
I practice low-key chivalry, and know, I've scars
That are reminders, that success remains uncertain,
Even when I've done my best to follow
The routine.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 214 times
Written on 2019-09-13 at 22:47

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