Corpus Delicti Poem by David Kowalczyk

I must confess:
once I turned fifty,
I began talking to
television newscasters
while watching TV.


They neither hear me,
nor answer me.
Those things will come
at ages sixty and seventy.


Sunday mornings at ten,
Carole McNeill co-hosts
CBC's 'Sun Day'.


The instant she appears, I'm seventeen again.
I would never describe her
as beautiful or sexy, or even pretty,
though all of these, and more,
most certainly apply.


Winsome, alluring, gorgeous...
these suddenly become pejoratives
in her presence.


Am I the victim of animal lust?
Possibly. Quite possibly.


Though my predominant fantasy
is that we embrace so tightly
on Toronto's Front Street West
that we slowly and deliciously
become invisible.