MONO ISSUE 2 - Flipbook - Page 15
T
H
E
As you pull away from me
and ask what's coming next,
I know, before we face the end of life,
we face the end of sex.
The powder's wet, the matches lost,
no fireworks today.
A fog has settled on the land –
we wouldn't see them anyway.
E
N
D
Old and fat, or skin and bones –
we've lost that promising sheen.
Who's going to take that first step now
when there's nothing in between?
How much of life is sex? you said,
We're further up the ladder –
But I've dropped my crown and can't get back down.
What's missing is what's the matter –
I was larger than life when we made love
though I'm a humble kind of guy,
but humility's a bitter soup.
Too much of anything, and you die.
I found surprise between your thighs,
spontaneous and rough.
But now we're alone in the comfort zone
and comfort's never enough.
O
F
S
E
X
There's pills and lotions, bonds and toys,
but foreplay needs so much planning.
So much for my cherished, naive hopes
that I'd be the last man standing.
I could teach you from experience
how the soul and the body connects,
but no one listens to an old man's two cents –
so I mourn the end of sex.
Jim Pratzon
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