A Queer’s Queer

Excuse, that’s my dream

you have in your hand.

You weren’t planning

on stealing it, were you?

He’s not bitter, but he

should be. That’s not

expecting too much.

A smile is asking too

much.

Over and over the stones

whirl around my head.

Even as I write these

words it’s to a song

I cannot forget.

So I guess too narrow,

too dumpy, and too

dumb. Whatever seems

right this week.

My eyes fall at too early

a time. A time before

Aphra Behn. A time

before I have read Aphra

Behn. So, good luck

mysterious thief. Good

luck to find your way

because you’re not

getting mine.