In my age I confess this:
Once I had a Poetry Club I created.
It was within a Strip Joint of high order.
Nothing but the most beautiful women.
I would visit on Wednesdays and go over
my poetry with those lovely women.
And I would read.
They would contemplate those words afterward.
How I miss my poetry club.
Not the sex but these lonely women.
:: 10.17.2023 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 