Conversation with my One Eye

 
The afternoon  
thinks sex
with every girl
at the Avenue window
Each babe passing
seems hotter than the last
Legs getting longer
skirts growing shorter
asses screaming tighter
until the peep of no panties
aches like a drug
and the lizard in my pants
lounges like Lazarus
on the stool at the bar

You shouldn't be so picky
he throbs
They're all the same
when their clothes come off
Just do the talking
warm her up with your tongue
show me the way in
then leave the rest to me

He could be right
but I know we wont find out
until I've
swallowed enough courage
to ask
just one