My wife’s apartment faces a small city park,
which, during the day is a delight
a place to sit and ponder about life’s intriguing mystery
and smugly see cars circling
trying to find a place to legally stop and take little breather.
Communal gardeners,
men with horny hands and tender hearts,
keep the park pretty.

At nights, however,
it is a place avoided by the neighbourhood,
lonely men with queer taste sit here
in the hope of finding happiness
and be picked up by other men,
but alas, often money is exchanged
and hasty love is made behind a shady oak!
and then they are forlorn once again.
Yes, love’s a captivating mystery.