Disaster

Disaster is
A swing of the hip
A lick of the lips
A brush of the hair
Away.

She flirts with me, enticing,
The rosiest perfume
Smelling stronger
Than a goddamn bouquet.

Clever fingers and crafty
Tricks with the tongue;
Cherry stem.  
And quietly she whispers
And deafeningly loud
Nature calls…
A stirring, an urge, an
irresistible desire-
no, a need.
A need.
A need.

And all I can do
is throw down the cards
and pack up and leave
(I had four aces,
and the pot was more
than a thousands green
backs.)
I'll be back tomorrow
night
To sit down and pretend like
I want to play cards
Waiting for disaster to come
and sidle up to me.