Greeting Card Lover

Nightly, she pens greeting cards 
while her husband snores,
his own greeting gone limp 
two decades ago.

She glances at the bed,
caresses the back of her hand
and the girl inside still sighs.

Robe and slippers discarded,
she slides onto her side of the bed,
slips her hand down her belly,
recalls better times- 
sweet juices flowing
from wide open thighs.


Pris Campbell
(c)2002

          Photograph: Chahassen Suburb
          Music: Another Day In Paradise


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Old Habits

In the tiny bath 
of his cramped flat, 
the minister jacks off 
to a crumpled page--
poetry, writ by the latest
in his stream of admiring parishioners.

A moth circles the light bulb, 
tries for its escape. 

Dinner bell!
He stuffs her poem
into his vest, flushes 
lust down the toilet,
scrubs both hands with lye, 
kisses his wife on the cheek
before beginning 
his hamhocks and soup,

along with the family prayer.


Pris Campbell
(c)2002