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Anton
 

 
Anton
appreciates a shine
on his shoe
and a sharp crease,
where it
should be.
He
may never
hope to
outsmart you
but he’ll
out dress you
unmercifully.

His closet
could only be
described
as
totally refined
yet
highly eclectic.
As with many
of his finest
silk ties,
you’d swear
he had to pay
the electric.

This
is not because
he was a
lady’s man,
those entanglements
take care of
themselves.
His
taste in dress,
all part of
the plan,
as into
new intimate relations
he now delves.

It’s the women
who find
a lady’s man
there.
Words
roll off his tongue
as though
in verse.
What he
put into her ear
sounded so
sincere’
he
couldn’t have
had time to
properly rehearse.

Anton
was smooth
but he was
tight as a drum.
He always
found a way
for the lady
to buy dinner.
In his mind
he just added it
to the sum
for her to pay
to be hanging
with such
a winner.

In reality
Anton was puke
painted in
fake gold.
He
was a gigolo
and so damned
proud of it.
Servicing
lonely women
never really
got old.
This isn’t
the kind of job
you’re inclined
to quit.

Submitted with tongue planted firmly in cheek to the Anything Goes challenge

See, you just can’t get rid of me; I’m like a bad habit.

Your friend in words,

Pete

By AlwaysMyWords

© 2009 AlwaysMyWords (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: Anything Goes - AG (challenge has been closed)


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