Gaming

Gaming

A Poem by JR

She calls across the ravine to him

who WHO whooo whooo whoooo

and he answers the same, off to my left

about a hundred yards, in the thick

of the trees, back and forth they go

who WHO whooo whoooo whooo

and it reminds me of the night before

drunk and flipping through

conversations in my phone,

so alone but also not sure

how to hoot anymore but

these two are hot and heavy with

who WHO whooo whooo whooo

and I think, you big dumb

feathered a*****e just

fly over there, you know

what she wants, and you know

how to give it to her;

For christ’s sake

why does every single thing about love

have to be a game?

© 2020 JR


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Added on May 3, 2020
Last Updated on May 3, 2020

Author

JR
JR

Placerville, CA



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