Balance of Power
I used to be jealous of those guys
who were so confident and smooth
and charming with the ladies,
the kind of dudes who had stories
about their sexual adventures
and careless conquests. Those guys
always seemed to have the girls
hanging on late into the night.
And in the mornings they'd spare
no detail, scattering the crumbs
to us lesser mortals, offering
a masters class in the dark
art of seduction, making it
look easy like a formula-
t-shirt and jeans, unbuttoned
Oxford, eye contact, I recall,
was very important, Drakkar Noir,
The Cure or New Order on the stereo-
Like magic, they said, guaranteed.
And at eighteen you look hard
at that kind of power, the balls
to just go up and grab what you want,
and you wonder about your own
deficiencies, but you never think
to ask about those beautiful girls
or what was lost behind closed doors
in those dark negotiations.
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