at the pool hall <br />I see a young man <br />seventeen maybe 18 <br />with a girl of similar age <br />that struts and poises, <br />arching her back <br />extending her legs and ass <br />like a lioness stretching <br />trying desperately to get <br />this young man's attention <br />he is pretending not to notice <br />while every other man in <br />the room does <br />finally I can’t take it <br />and I write <br />my phone number on a napkin <br />along with this message: <br />“when your tired of this <br />boy give a real man a try” <br />he looks at me as I look at her <br />and she looks at the note <br />while I walk away <br />he asks her <br />“what was that? ” <br />“nothing, just an old friend” <br />I smile with my back turned <br />It’s been three days though <br />and no phone call. <br />Maybe my forwardness <br />has spurred the young lad into action <br />I’d like to think so<br /><br />Jon Edward Walker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/waiting-for-the-call-of-god-or-anyone/
