Too Often Poem by shimon weinroth

I gaze, in a store, on a bus
a room, a hall, almost everywhere
focus and observe,
look and peer,

a rosy cheek and downy hair
a fine shaped neck,
the rise and fall of a beating breast
hunger and leer

my eye runs down to the ground
a curvaceous calf and Trojan ankles,
and back to the chasis

electricity courses
runs through the anatomy
I, blush and pale
at my glances so crude,

blame it on gestalt
Sigmund, Jung and Adler
the weather
hormones and horny

God and predestination