From her point of view

How did I get a spot on my knee?

Why do chickens have no teeth?

Why do we have ten toes not thirteen?
surely the more toes you have
makes it easier to climb trees?

Anyway, what crime did I commit
to upset all the Gods
so to blight my lower limbs
with tiny yellow headed spots.

If it is a form of punishment
for the things I have done
at least the spots are confined to my knees
and not to the crack of my bum.

Wait! I wonder
if it’s the festering conditions
bred by my unwashed jeans?

No! I digress
I should concentrate
as you try to make love
to me.

This poem is the fear of all men. Especially me.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011