Bad Ode-- Ode To Spring--Pole Dance Of Love

Oh, Spring, glorious Spring

You’re like one of those dancers,

you know,

a lap dancer

where you taunt and tease and titillate,

but The Man can’t touch!

Oh, no. He can’t.

You just want his dollar bills.

You tease me like that, Spring,

and it’s worse because I don’t even have

a dollar to give you.

You seduce me with promises of

flowers and birdsongs

and balmy nights where I can wear nothing

but a secret

and yet

and yet

you hit me with ice.

You’re frigid, Spring.

Open up for me, please.

I want you.

I need you.

I go down on my knees for you.

Show me the full monty, Spring,

and I,

I will give you everything,

which admittedly isn’t much,

but I will give you my love.

And a dollar…as soon as I earn one

on this internal pole from which I hang

with one leg wrapped around

and the other reaching

reaching

reaching

out

to

you.