Coitus Interruptus

by Robert P. Hansen

The moon is half empty—or is it half full?
Waxing? Waning? I can never remember which
is which. It’s a phase I’m going through.
Or is it the moon that’s going through a phase?
It’s bright enough to see shadows, but not much more.
A bullfrog croaks out a slow, steady rhythm, and
the crickets offer a counterpoint of rapid rat-a-tat-tats.
An owl hoots in the distance.
I click the flashlight on, adding a false note to their symphony,
and scan the grass before me.
The air is fresh and clean, as it always is after a rain,
and a soft breeze rustles through the grass, unsettling the captured raindrops.
The coffee can is big in my hand, its ridged metal smooth and cold.
A few tense seconds pass, and then I see them: two worms wrestling.
I pounce like the fish I hope to catch
and gently pull them from the ground before they can break apart.
They plunk softly as they hit the bottom of the coffee can
and wriggle, wriggle. . . .

Passion

I crave
the scintillating touch
of your fingertips
crawling
over my skin,
and igniting
the inner fire
that threatens to
burn me alive.

Eros, Eris

It is
so
easy
to love
to hate
or
to hate
to love
or
even
to hate
to hate
but
it is
difficult
oh
so
difficult
to love
to
love.

BIO

Mr. Hansen has taught college philosophy courses for nearly twenty years and writes in his spare time. His poetry and short stories have appeared in numerous publications (including Calliope, Lyrical Iowa, and The Martian Wave); and his novels are available through most major eBook retailers. For more on his writing, visit his blog (rphansenauthorpoet | Only fools thinks they are right all of the time….), and for more of his poetry, check out his YouTube channel (My Life in Poetry: A Pseudo-Autobiography – YouTube).