THE HOUR

It was the hour of living dangerously
and I met this fetching young creature who
SURPRISE!
did not want to sleep with me.
“Don’t you get it?” I asked,
“Don’t you see? I’m the one for you, my dear,
and you’re the one for me!”

She was not a fan of spontaneous rhymes
– or maybe she thought my spontaneous rhyme
was suspect:
preplanned, prepared, predetermined…
Maybe she was not a fan of mine.
“I would not do it with you,”
she said,
“or anything of thine!”
(her rhymes worked.)

I begged and pleaded
(it was, after all,
the hour of living dangerously)
to no avail
so eventually
we parted ways
and I went back to the business of the day
which was seeking anyone
to sleep with me.

So far,
no takers,
and the hour has passed
so
I don’t know
how it will go.