Poem in a Yurt

Perhaps I will write a poem

in my yurt in the front yard

of my home with no distractions

no naked young women being

here inside with sexual intentions.

Perhaps poems turn out better

when sexually aroused women are

elsewhere, sleeping or shopping or

making money or making babies

as attractive women generally do.

Perhaps words reach further, transcend

the ideas they represent, no description

of reality being strictly accurate

in all respects most descriptions remain

tilted, like naked breasts on a pillow.

Perhaps this is more than enough

for one poem in one yurt at 7am

when most people around here

remain asleep, except the lucky ones

who nuzzle close to their lovers,

half-awake.