Fifty-Something Turnon

by Lee Orcutt  <>

maybe I don't love you at all, woman
maybe I wooed you for your hats

scuffed havana straw that you claim is
the most comfortable hat you ever owned,
stetson wrangler you wear with tights and
cowboy boots--turning me on more than reba,
leopard turban that sets off your tawny skin
and throws a vixen shadow over lesser cats

certainly it was that cocked grey derby
with the three-piece pinstripe & spike heels
that made me ask you out before you got away,
not knowing then that you studied tickertape
to do what was best for your clients
instead of what would make us rich--
not really caring as long as we wore
our berets, and not a thing else
on a rug by the crackle-snap fire
reading poems to each other
feeding each other warm camembert
on sliced U of M apples number 10610

until, we abandoned
apples, cheese, bukowski--and the berets

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