A Curious Form of Predation                               

            They didn’t need to work by stealth
            Or wield a gun
            Being smart and more than pretty and
            Inseparable as
            Vice and virtue
            They merely had to lie in wait
            For guys who,
            Tending towards the misinterpretation of
            Design for luck,
            Would sacrifice their salted souls
            To play
            That night I found myself
            Performing somersaults
            To show that I agreed
            With everything they said and did
            I anticipated in reward a knowledge
            Never known before
            Exceeding twofold in degree
            At least
            The weightless joy of being
            They pounced by disappearing . . .
            In their double bedroom mirror
            Having little to admire,
            Though lots of time,
            I reflected much much less on gullibility
            Than dashed desire


            Emanuel E. García, The Virtues of Calamity, One Hundred Poems2013