A good-looking grownup kid, he appears,
Wearing his carefully-picked suit and wedding band,
his hair not too long, or short, he's taking
a business trip, most likely one of his first -
hearing with awe the bearded man boast
about the same age, in the window seat,
a returning soldier, bragging of his time in Africa:
tan, fairish hair, royal scoundrel
hushed, excitedly, beneath the airplane's dull
quiet groaning.
The businessman-boy, unworldly, laughs, vivacity
exiting in small bursts - his emanation
broken - at a glimpse of
disgraced love. Something morose
makes his thick dark lashes flicker, motioning
with such manicured hands,
hands his puerile wife
probably wants to bite, when they flounder,
sinless and hasty,
at her indignant thighs.
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