By Elizabeth Harper

My first high school steady
was a computer geek.
I read sci-fi novels
and corrected his college essay.
We tried bondage and anal.
I'm lucky his interest in me
wasn't confined to the cranial.

I hung with an ex-con
who was a well-hung dom.
I did him, his roommate,
and all his friends.
It felt like fate.
We were the means
to each other's ends.

I lived with an artist.
I must have been in it
for the catharsis.
Oh the pathos;
oh the bother.
How was I to know
he needed a mother?

I dated an electrician.
I was on a mission
a marriage (a baby) to make.
My time that man did take.
Grateful was I for his attentions
and precious emissions.
Imagine my contrition.

I married an Irishman.
What was I thinking?
It must have been
all the drinking.
He treated me swell.
I couldn't tell
what I was in for.