Icing

His smile was a Tom waits song

Wrinkles and grey hair

Wry curmudgeon

Who still stayed up late

Not wanting to miss

A chance to complain

Or to touch her thigh

Sneaker and

Sweater

And scarf

Mr. Rogers cool

with a curse

And tequila

On his breath

If it was a bad night

Most weren’t

Maybe that’s why he never slept

To make sure

The nights stayed

Under his control

He was an argument

You’d never win

a heart you couldn’t

Catch

Always sliding away

Of the ice of

His words

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