The honey man
calls all the women
I cannot say why,
of course,
but feel he sells
his bees up river
each time
he does it.

I buy his pollen
in the little plastic
bags, because I want
some of what it has
done for him.
And he has more or less
promised it will
do the same for me.

The honey man
holds court
at farmers market,
his buddies backin’
him up, I think
because they want
what he has too.
They stand at his
flanks, leaning against
the back of the van
as men do.
Idle men always seem to
lean and save their energy
for looking.

The honey man stands
without leaning (erect)
it is hard, in fact
to think of the honey man
ever having leaned at all.

He calls out to his
regular customers,
“Hey, how you doin?”
Sometimes he is so engaged
in conversation, he can
scarcely take time to sell.

He surfs a lot he says,
in praise of the pollen,
perhaps still living in his van at middle-age.
Or maybe not.
Maybe just ready in a moment
to let it roll his life
where it will.

It’s not at all
that the honey man is handsome
or memorable in fact,
it’s just that buzz
of energy he has,
that makes his skin glisten
and that givin’ all he has
grin when he calls
the women sugar.