There’s A Lesbian Over There

There’s a lesbian over there
smoking a cigarette
and I tempt fate,
making fun of her hair.

Maybe she’ll come over here
and be such a lie to turn
my grandkid’s hopes to tears

and all my wished for
prosaic monuments yet to build

will crumble dust
as her gaze me wilts.

Or maybe she’ll put out the butt
and plod off in her Birkenstocks.

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