My mind is back at the office
locked in a scheduling problem,
but I decide
to reach for you,
to finger your pages
and touch your insides.

You gasp and breathe out your poetry
perfecting my response
with the vowels of your pleasure.

But that worker-me
I left just minutes ago
is still feverishly opening doors
trying to find an answer
in the volume-lined rooms.

He is always there
waiting a few synapses away
ready to save me
from the barking dogs
of Mondays thru Fridays.

But you, my love
patient and ready
softly lay beside me
opening your body
to the me
three seconds behind schedule.

02/22/2004

Author's Note: Inspried by Billy Collins poem, "I Go Back to the House for a Book" in his book, Picnic, Lightning

Posted on 02/23/2004
Copyright © 2024 Glenn Currier