the lady with the short shorts sits on the counter

little feet trample my idea of peace;
dirt, water, germs, fleas, worms (probably),
surround me, stick to me, flank me;
now look at me; wait, don’t look at me.

seeking shelter in the corner of the ‘L’
shaped home, i saw legs; irresistible legs;
thighs too; smooth, tan, shapely thighs;
the kind that creates internal sighs.

we blathered on for a bit, nibbling on fruits,
speaking on general topics, a laugh here,
a laugh there, a stare here, a stare there,
seeds, seeding, seeded, seedy;
she’s a ‘seeductress’.

leaves are turning, falling, burning;
ground is suffocating, drowning, dying;
people are lying, the people are lying;
i’m still here internally sighing.

the sidewalk wanders on beyond
the weeds sprouting through the cracks
reminding me of the weeds erupting
through the cracks in my soul.

and when i finally returned home
from the trip ‘round the world
where sighs are sighs
and thighs are thighs,
you left a number of guys
with watery eyes;
i’m just glad i wasn’t one of them.