It’s early on a cold fragile morning
And the coyotes think they have a date
with a car alarm
A time to be inspired by women
I’ve never met
One makes me wonder why I never tackle
The girth of the world and it’s problems
Another challenges me to be descriptively verbose
And state a simple want
The next writes like  uncut Bermuda grass
Lush loam of a story growing underneath
Lying alone with all these women
They  have no idea that the others lie here too
Artistic bigamy, wrapped in cooling flannel
Menage a quatro, the medium mixed

The coyotes have returned from their date
They high five and dive for the underbrush
The morning is that much shorter now
And the women have all gone
I’ll keep the bed warm alone this night
Rest my dreams in the cradle of their collective thighs
Pondering the political, the plausible, the global
I turn clockwise in my bed because I can.