Knight Errant

That feigning-friendly leering letch
over there, kneading from behind
the shoulders and neck of a pretty
young thing barely half his age,
whom he would like to know
much more barely, I’ll bet...

How does she feel about it? I catch
her eye and smile a smile I hope will
not be taken for a leer, just to let
her know, don’t worry, someone’s here
who won’t let this get out of hand,

imagining the while her shoulders
and her neck, my strong but gentle
hands soothing them... and her breasts,
which must be half my age plus maybe
a year, or two.

by Frank Fagan

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