The girls at dupont circle.
Their naked fingers taunting me like
A plastic pot of 28 chocolate
Chip cookies on sale at Harris
Teeter for 3.99
I would crawl under their tables
At the coffee shops
To ask them out on lewd- and lascivious-filled dates
I must find my spectacles
The one before me with ears, intellectual relevant having lost her virginity at 12
On a Kindle reading Beckett soon a mom
Reading the Dialogues not of Plato but of Popeye the Sailor Man Cartoons
To three babies
And fallen away from the parsons and the deacons and Pope Paul the XXIII and other popes
On her Kindle
Reading Aeschylus painted brown-turquoise her Bridgette Bardot fingernails
I say 12 prayers to God
Does He want me to crawl under her table
To discover her she?
I would, being Japanese and French and Tibetan and
Mongol and Bolivian and Antarctic.