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by Jack D. Harvey
Fool, she said, groping
in my breeches with
sagacious dexterity,
Fabius was mighty
but he went backwards too,
and left a stylish legend
twinkling down the years.
She started her handspiel,
but how gladly I left
Paradise and recoiled
from her amorous grasp.
The work, under her labor
had grown, but disturbance
was dismissed and
sitting face to face,
like Sappho's sole
daughters our dactyls
touched and led the way
to quieter thoughts.
You're my girl, I said,
with molybdic seriousness,
as I looked at her
sour puss.
Auspicating in
my prophetic soul,
I thought, beaming at her,
if ever was a bed of steel,
here 'tis;
I'm trapped like a goat
on a precipice.
We looked at each other
deeply and harshly;
her wit was as much
as mine;
we saw though each other,
fallen from trust and truth
to cunning and deceit.
But, like a flash,
the mood,
tender and variable as a baby,
changes once again and,
gracious God, my pike
stirs, she sees, and,
ye heavenly host,
immodestly conquers.
Jack D. Harvey’s poetry has appeared in Scrivener, The Comstock Review, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Typishly Literary Magazine, The Antioch Review, The Piedmont Poetry Journal and elsewhere. The author has been a Pushcart nominee and over the years has been published in a few anthologies.
The author has been writing poetry since he was sixteen and lives in a small town near Albany, New York. He is retired from doing whatever he was doing before he retired. He once owned a cat who could whistle “Sweet Adeline,” use a knife and fork and killed a postman.
His book, Mark the Dwarf is available on Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/Mark-Dwarf-Jack-D-Harvey-ebook/dp/B019KGW0F2