Oh thank God it’s Friday, calls the hunter to the prey,
it’s time for bars and happy hours, to drink the night away.
She closes up her briefcase; he straightens out his tie,
they leave as business people, and let the business lie
in dossiers and desktops, in computers bloomed with dust,
fluorescents dimmed, the ficus trimmed, not a scene for lust.
Each heads to the subway line, and braves a crowded pass,
dreaming of a dreamboat, or a perfect piece of ass.
Once home, it’s time to shower, and pluck and prune and groom,
to freshen all the linens in the assignation room.
He scans the paper, flips a beer and stops to feed the cat,
she fusses hair and glosses lips and wonders if she’s fat.
Then each goes out to hunting grounds that throb with disco beat,
to size up what's on offer in a market full of meat.
He sees her then across the room and yes, she’s looking good.
He’d like to buy her just one drink, well, two then, if she would.
They talk just briefly of their jobs, soon switch to their vacations,
he likes to golf, she likes to cook, but both enjoy ski-stations.
Getting on to midnight, he asks her, What’s the time?
She says, It’s time for me to leave, so he asks, Yours or mine?
Saturday, it’s her place, or rather it’s her bed,
Sunday it’s to his, and a waterbed instead.
In between, a movie, and maybe dinner, too.
After, awkwardness abounds, her bra adorns his shoe.
She thinks he has an ugly mole not far below his ear,
he thinks that she could lose a bit, maybe around the rear,
and only two days in they have a stupid little spat,
an old familiar method to ensure that things go flat.
They try a little walkabout, she's feeling disappointed.
There's nothing left to talk about, he knows he’s not anointed.
Monday comes around again, as Monday always will,
each to each and own to own. More would be overkill.
He’s in his suit and tie again, with papers at the ready,
she’s panty-hosed and fully clothed, well-shod, secure and steady.
He’s up there in the saddle, she’s up there on that horse.
Oh thank God it’s Monday, the week is back on course.