My lovers, they come and go

My lovers,
they come and go
like a motley procession
of possibles and maybes.
In between
I have my muse,
and Ben and Jerry’s,
for company. You

can always tell
my state of the union
just by looking.
The toilet seat stays down,
and only one toothbrush
sits in the holder.
No mismatched socks
lying in clandestine arrangements
on the floor. I’m

still looking for my diamond
in a wall of stone.
Maybe tomorrow
I’ll find the mother lode.

© 2001 by Cookala