Cynicism Isn't Always Realism
Caitlin thinks that we're in love,
A pretty thought, but I've my doubts.
At twenty-two, she's not attuned to
Our respective baser needs. She
Cannot find a steady job. She's
Always broke, but I can feed her,
Lead her from coworkers' couches
To my bed with flannel sheets,
And I become a dashing figure,
Not the faded, graying man,
I was before she clung to me.
We gain, but are we truly lovers?
I don't know. I'm glad she's here.
I melt when I can make her laugh,
And gasp, ecstatic, when we're rutting
(Almost never after eight) . I wonder,
Are our baser needs the building blocks
Comments about this poem (Cynicism Isn't Always Realism by Lawrence Beck )
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