The Great Devoid

Hormonic harmonics.

————

The harmonies we once enjoyed

now seem to make my wife annoyed,

like games we used to play in bed

where sugarplums ensconced my head,

but now, it seems, I must avoid

all mention of what we employed

where quickly, after fits and starts,

our pulse encouraged rising parts

to dance to muses who deployed

sweet murmurings to Pinkish Floyd.

Through time, it seems, life disappoints

more often than arthritic joints,

and now I am no longer coyed

but lie in bed, my deep, dark void.

By Ken Gosse

From: United States

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