Come on we both know that’s not sweat, they sprayed you down to make it look like it. Yes it is, yes it is…I just got done working out. I just left the gym. No…now come on. Yeah alright. I’m sorry, you look good, you look like you were really working out. Well, I do work out in real life so I’m not really lying here to everyone…that counts that really I do… well what are you doing? Just hangin’ out huh? Looking at the picture of a pretty girl on the fitbit cover on the rack, pissed off that she’s up here and not with you, so you start being a dick. Hey, whoa.. I mean afterall, I’m just browsing here. Well, that’s your thing isn’t it? You’re not a man Dan. What you’d like to be doing is screwing me on the beach with the particles of sand going straight up my asshole, but you don’t have the nerve, even in your fantasies, to do something like that. In fact, you wouldn’t even be able to imagine it, you’d just come up with something half-ass like, I take it hard on the beach, with the sand in sweat sticking on the curve of my ass cheek like the tracks of a pick up truck along the beach. So when are you going to drop the misanthropic, bummin’ around the animal house thing and let me have it? Please Dan, let me have it, let me help you. Can I help you let me have it? Can I help you? Can I help you sir? Would you like me to take something down so you can have a look at it?

Image CreditScott Webb

Daniel J. Flore III’s poems have appeared in many publications. His three poetry books are Lapping Water, Humbled Wise Men Christmas Haikus, and Home and other places I’ve yet to see.