I guess I’m really the fool
to keep tripping over beards
that have no intention of being kept,
just spreading the seeds of leftover
crumbs and dried up *** from
one pair of legs to the next
I should’ve known, I had been warned
The signs were seen miles away
but I’m an aimless wanderer in search
of I don’t even know so I missed
them by a year of ******* around
Eight in nine—a personal best
but on whose bedpost do I perch to nest?