Not You, Kate, They Are Just Not You Poem by John W. McEwers

A woman sits beside me
struts, fiddles with her hair beside me
she looks like she's
one hot moment from
being bedroom ready

she's got ice green eyes
and pale black pupils
so wide the whole night
sky is in them

Cars honk on our way
to the downtown bars
and she turns and waves
like a Kennedy

with her little skirt twirling
and my mind set to whirling
around the horizontal possibilities

I look down to my feets
and they are just out of reach
out of sight behind a swollen belly

and I frown a little, Kate.
Do you remember when you used to
rub my tummy because I always ate too much Chinese?