Cheated on my wife yesterday.
Short changed my employer too.
It wasn’t the first time either.
Left work early, headed straight for a rendezvous.
The motor lodge perfectly situated midway between office and home.
Pulled into the lot, backed directly in front of room one-twenty
hiding my tag from street-side eyes. I’m experienced at this.
Looked up, mirrored the doorand imagined the room beyond.
Dresser on the right, TV on top,bathroom straight ahead,
end tables sandwich a king-sized bed partially occupied,
clothes hastily thrown over a chair.
No sense waiting, reached into my attaché—for the key— to anticipated bliss.
Quickly opened to page twenty-two of Taylor Mali’s, What Learning Leaves.
Read “Like Lilly Like Wilson” for a fifth time.
Thirty minutes passed as one. Stopped on page forty-five,
slipped in the bookmark, closed the paperback, stuffed it,
well back under the passenger seat.
Hurriedly fired up the engine and sped homeward,
traveling a meager five miles over the limit.
No sense incurring a ticket, compoundingmy indiscretion
and adding to the guilt.
With difficulty, ignored the cell phone’s musical demand for action.
Was it the office? The wife? Powered it off.
Half-hour purloined from the world.
Worth every second but hopefully
this compulsion will not lead to obsessionthat wrecks my career,
ruins a joyful marriagebuilt upon foundations of honesty and trust.
Is there a twelve-step program for poetry addicts?
If so, pray it never comes to that for me.
Causes Charles Redner Supports
All Down syndrome associations, Buddy Walks in LA, Tucson and Orange Country CA