a bit faded, i cruise through loose threads in my argument.
i recoil from dimwits that flip wigs and false coin.
i join the null set of lost clubs on main street, discreetly -
but strut like a peacock in leather feathers,
for non -boys...
so many
girls.

i'm in two worlds,
but **** if she don't fit in, pro bono.
she knows what i don't know, like a book spout of lovely.
my bones lend juice to the stew of her gifts, when she'll have me.
but luck gets cut and what not, and better fellas
rob joy from so
many worlds

they're Cuckoo.

i snip pearls
for this
one.

my intentions are
sincere
if not

see-through.