April 25, 2026

Happy Hours

 4/2026 (c)


 

One ate wasabi at happy hour,

another horseradish and coffee,

then leaned in to kiss.

 

One didn’t regularly bathe.

His sweater stiff with dried sweat.

He tried to cage me in an embrace.

 

Another knew that rape would be time efficient.

 

One complained that I was bossy,

then insisted I take the lead

and plan everything.

 

Several were already married.

Many lied on the dating app—

about age, height, occupation.

In person, they all man-splained.

 

Each of them said

they were willing to try to love me.