Jims like me wake up in life
already playing second fiddle
in realms of sex and love –
thousands of us hungering
for never offered solo parts.
Megs like her float among us,
plain as sin, but soft for Jims
and singing hopeful hymns
to God and Jesus.
Across the aisle, Clarences,
eyes too big, are sweet on Megs,
their brand new homely hearts
bleeding down their sleeves,
while in-betweens like Jims bleat
for fiery-eyed and mean sopranos
in front row center seats.
Jims lift weights, eat right, stay trim,
play bridge and chess with Clarences,
jog barefoot on the beach alone,
do not disturb the universe.
They think they’ll leave the Megs behind,
but end up Meg men down the line.
©James L. Ralston