O’ this problematic /
of all that is quite antic /
stands in ways dramatic /
at the lover’s front door. /
But it would be most ecstatic /
and even a touch fantastic /
to touch your life elastic /
once upon a time once more. /
Though time be a bit erratic /
and full of senseless static /
like a radio set to bombastic /
’tis you my heart adores. /
And though life is all to plastic /
with desires trifling spastic /
my mind trips the light romantic /
in wishing for amour. /
So, redact moments miasmic /
and reach for ones orgasmic /
and travel beyond the didactic /
until we reach each other’s door. /
–David E. Booker
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