a good set of legs

there’s grease on my fingers
and a good set of legs walks by,
the right size
In all the right places.
no wonder we’re born with two eyes.
I put my glass down,
and the table shakes
pedestrian craftsmanship.
but it never collapses.
each day.
standing upright.
four pathetic legs
allotting sense to why
we’re always looking for
another pair to lean on.

so you look for legs,
In bars,
under covers,
behind desks,
something to lean on
something to keep you steady.
and when you find them,
the sun laughs.
watching,
waiting,
as you begin to lean a little too long,
in the wrong places
at the wrong times,
watching,
as one leg folds.

and when you’re not leaning anymore,
you’re thinking
shit
I need a drink
not a set of legs.
so you get one,
and set the glass down,
and your table shakes
just a bit,
as a good set of legs walks by.

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