His twisting right foot
takes him past that door
where she had twice –
maybe more –
quick-scurried through
up double-took steps
to a fat goatee face
which she’d anointed hard
with two monkeys’ worth
of her itching kisses
One thousand more
than he had accrued
in those thousand days
of running aways?
As his turned-on-heel
takes another’s embrace
which lifts him higher
as his suddenly-lover
No more counting
or care
of steps now rhymed
and left unnumbered
MIKE BELL | 10,000 Poems 