Thinking of 1984

It occurred to me just now
that my days
of seeing naked young women

in the flesh
are over.

I suppose I could go to a strip club
but it’s really not the same thing at all.
As Frost would say it’s

like playing tennis with the net down.
I was never interested in that sort of advantage.

Yet there’s nothing quite like the instant
when a woman starts
taking off her clothes

and you feel like you’ve won
the only game that matters.

I’ll miss that.
Not so much the nakedness or the sex
but who she saw me as in that moment—

even if it was only
for a moment.



About the Author: Richard King Perkins II is a state-sponsored advocate for residents in long-term care facilities. He lives in Crystal Lake, IL with his wife, Vickie and daughter, Sage. He is a three-time Pushcart nominee and a Best of the Net nominee whose work has appeared in more than a thousand publications. In a six-year period, his poems have appeared in The Louisiana Review, Bluestem, Emrys Journal, Sierra Nevada Review, Roanoke Review, The Red Cedar Review and Crannog. He has poems forthcoming in The William and Mary Review, Sugar House Review, Plainsongs, Free State Review and Milkfist. He was a recent finalist in The Blue Bonnet Review Spring Poetry, The Rash Awards, Sharkpack Alchemy, Writer’s Digest and Bacopa Literary Review poetry contests.