Some days listening
to upbeat hillbilly tunes
he'd smile a wrinkled grin
and be dumb
at how sprung she had
made him,
but then the smile
remained,
and he remembered
how damn good
she had made him feel
on better days.
He would think of the others:
the lesbians, and the catfish,
the ones with ten perfect toes
and how none could live up
to faded freckles on her nose,
and he would smile
some more and go back
to her.
Remembering late
night poetry
on glowing cell phone screen
and later how he had thought
he might die pining
as pathetic as a teen.
He would smile and put her away,
to enjoy another day.
Again and forever
just like she had always stayed.
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