by Dee Newman

It’s a strange and wondrous thing
(a little disconcerting too)
that after all that thoughtful self-reflection
to realize, just when you think you finally
got it all figured out,
free, at last, from the fire
and cryptic innuendoes of your left mode,
some bright brown-eyed desire
can dance across your well chosen path
and pause just long enough
to tantalize the toad
right out of your pant’s pocket
leaving you, once again, bemused.

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