Poem: Birthday Suit

Last night I was waiting to cross the road,
When a man wearing no more than Speedos
Came abreast of me and stopped. My fingers
Tightened around the fly-spray can I’d gone to get.

I prayed, for the first time in years,
For the lights to change or the man to go,
Whichever got hit by a bus first
(Sorry, I mean whichever came first…)
When I inspected his facial area
And discovered him grimacing in regret.

I didn’t want to be that guy, but before long I piped up,
“You’re a little underdressed.”
He smiled like a straight man on reality TV,
“I’m freezing,
But it was so humid in my apartment.”

B.C