Fuck Buddy
A fuck buddy will not respect your snot
No strings attached is a precipitous fall
A hook up can leave you reeling on the line
That more enlightened age a filter on Instagram
Don’t get me wrong
I’m open to it
But that also leaves me open
For a stalker to target
A bulge in my pants is worth stew in the bush
The walk of the cock was the tip of her tongue
A cross your heart bra like an animal snare
That drew me in close to the curve of the spine
An obscure profile pic is a blood red flag
One whiff of street cred a formidable crutch
A clutch of votive candles lights a fear of the dark
From which Brother Leonard Cohen is not helping you out
The obligatory phone call’s a dangerous proposition
Your movie night projects a list of broken promises
Asserting masculinity leaves you running like a bitch
After a case of blue balls leading to some brown stains in your pants
The nervous system has to have its papers checked
A free spirit sometimes hides a desperate mind
Confession is a confirmation of communion
Her apology a band-aid at the scene of the crime.
David Lawton
Photographs Poetry