SHE CAME IN THROUGH THE BATHROOM WINDOW

(Maybe I Should Have Left Her The Key?)

All my toiletries strewn about,
my deodorant in the "soup",
Roll of tissues all unfurled.

My towel bar was ripped right out,
my shower curtain torn,
my hamper upturned with my undies asunder.

My nosy old neighbor not minding her own
was the reason authorities came to my home,
A frantic call for extradition and bail.

You didn't speak to me for weeks,
even though your passage is assured.
Next time check the welcome mat, avoiding time in jail.

YOU’VE GOT TO HIDE YOUR LOVE AWAY

(Maybe I Shouldn’t Wear My Heart on my Sleeve)

Just a hopeless romantic;
a fool with a heart,
going through life
with this need to be loved.
A minstrel of love songs,
a purveyor of mirth,
a reason to rhyme,
waxing poetic and often ,
hoping to soften the blows
of a misguided emotion,
lost in devotion to one so fair.
In my eyes, a vision,
a purposeful wanting,
desires unfolding,
in scope and breadth.
The vacancy sign
worn like a badge
high on my shoulder,
an advertisement.
A prurient “want” ad
reading as such:
“Hopeless romantic,
a fool with a heart,
looking for same.
No need to reply,
I’ll know by your sign.
Worn on your sleeve,
the same as mine”

I'M LOOKING THROUGH YOU

(Maybe I Shouldn't Have Bought These X-Ray Glasses)

There it is.
In back of the
Superman comic book
I revered as a boy.

Next to the prize catalog.
Under the advice about
handling bullies on the beach.
Joe Wieder you steered me wrong.

Arriving in a manila envelope,
shrouded in secrecy, a sworn oath
to myself that neither my mother nor brothers
would ever know of my hidden "powers",

a fantastic ability to see through clothes.
I never wore them in the house
just in case my mother or sisters
might cross paths with my enhanced vision

and I end up in therapy for the rest of
my natural life. Countless hours standing
at the back fence staring down
the neighbor's daughter as we both

wrestled with pre-pubescence
(all the while, dreaming of wrestling with her).
An afternoon shot and not a stitch of fabric
had left her developing form.

I was no longer hot and bothered.
Damn, I wasn't even warm.
Out a couple buck plus postage.
I should have seen that coming,

but my x-ray eyes failed me.
Joe Wieder, what's your spiel again?