they don't pay me enough to care (ode to teaching)

i know the sun shines
out your ass, but i forgot
my vintage ray-bans

and you forgot that
i don't give a fucking fuck
about what you think.

even numbers

it's ten past eight and
six drinks in, and four eyes watch
indifferent while

two fingers take a
hasty plunge, busy until
the door clicks open

jesus and christ!

'guess what today is?'
'thursday! almost the weekend--
thank god!' 'hmm. not quite.'

i'll carry this guilt
til next year, when i manage
to forget again.

when the cat sleeps on your dress shirts

she wanders out of
the bedroom, lazy, lusty,
langorous, glancing

at me askew while
she stretches, knowing she can
do poses i can't

or won't; but the worst
is the smell on her bosom
green, briney, complex

gin, cologne, dunhills
deals, desire and intrigue
that i'll never know