Fax Of Life

Impression of a smile left on the face
A man who knows how to ingratiate
The hustle of an ever changing charm
A desperation to entice a mate
Chameleon of countless Saturday
With jeans a little tighter than before
Was easy once to get them taken off
That market ever harder to procure
The snake pit of the lap it holds no charm
For wriggle of the hips is fleeting dance
When gambling it’s good to know the odds
But probably all that was left to chance
Was once a hunter now the victim of
Becoming the facsimile of love

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Author: thepoetautist

A Gay poet of fifty odd years who is currently living in Cambodia.

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