Paul Pfleuger, Jr.

Half rendering

see I
a child of Buffalo
   cannot complain
  of these skinny Decembers

hearing home buried

   in what

       it made us

returning a message
I fail to translate
the open enough screens
the baked yam cart
    oozing in

the yellow evening

our trash truck

About apples
(Based on material found in a thread in The Men's Clubhouse at Talk About Marriage.)

The field is strewn with body parts.
I am by no means a steroidal monkey,
but I know exactly why my wife cheated.

She needed space
to do deep therapy on herself-
reverse cowgirl with Al the Butcher.

Even if she isn't fucking someone else,
she likely isn't fucking you-or if she is,
she is doing so as little as possible.

The post-modern feminized man
is sexually starving-
a colossal friggin disaster
on the what, why, and wherefore front.

There’s an old Chinese saying-“If you haven’t seen your wife for three days,
she is fucking another dude.”

Now, I was a monogamy master (Not to be confused with a master beta).
I just turned the emotional air-conditioner on full blast when treated badly,
and left it on.

Lose your alpha, lose your wife.
Her island has moved and the bridge between you two broke.
You weren't island enough.

A person of the female person
wearing sexy underwear
exposing her palms and wrists
helped me out big time.

I'm all for gaming. It works.
My own post body parts-
#3 was the anti-#2.

Why do they affair down?

I'm hardwired for spankings
and even other dark dark things.
The two key drivers: Sweet karma and muscle mass.

No eggshells for me –but I walk softly when I begin to hear
the sound of Antonio Banderas wannabes cracking underfoot.
It's like islands with PTA, Brownies, soccer, etc…

I'm saying sometimes the calculator is broken.
To look at her, you'd think my wife a sexual 40 year-old
but she's 41.

I love that my wife is a touch crazy and at times seriously scary.
That is smokin hot. Like a big jungle cat – that can talk
and funnier than Garfield.

The crazy is like the spice in an exotic bedroom, car, golf course,
mountaintop, tent, back porch, shed, washing machine,
kitchen and dining room table,
other various pieces of furniture and floor.

If she does X, pointing knees and feet toward a man,
I am reluctantly going to Y, to keep her fire lit.
Last night was pure beta. Hopefully skillful, funny beta.

Once the bloom is off the rose of the honeymoon,
the work/kid killer schedule
then the combo of her catholic (anti divorce) upbringing,
oh shoot - the #2 follows the penis.

Strange old life,
birds of a feather flock together and all that.
Then at the end there’s the retirement phase
and that’s a whole new ballgame.

Paul Pfleuger, Jr. is an American living in Taiwan. His work has appeared in a number of print and online publications such as Modern Haiku, ARSENAL, bottle rockets, and Ginyu. He is the Assistant Editor of Roadrunner. His blog is amidst vs.
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