summer heat

My Girlfriend's Eyes are Kinda Like the Sun

with apologies to the old bard himself, William Shakespeare

My girlfriend's eyes are kinda like the sun —
she glares at me and makes my face go red
when I am eying other chicks. "For fun,"
I grin. How can a guy not turn his head
to watch a babe with mounds of cleavage white
as snow, or one whose skinny thong strap peeks
between her shirt and cut-offs so skin tight? —
My eyes can peel her shorts right off those cheeks.
Thing is, my girl is really wide in the beam;
her eyes are city stars, so widely spread;
her weedy hair, a vacant lot of dreams.
But who would think of sleep when we're in bed?
      I'll tell you more, but not inside this sonnet.
      Be a pal — don't let her in on it.

by
Barbara Lydecker Crane

(Watch for her first chapbook, Zero Gravitas, from White Violet Press)