Blue men,
Micro men,
Monsters muscled,
Straining pinstripes
and monograms.
Thighs flexed,
Legs splayed,
Hands shoved
Recklessly
In pockets.
Ankles pulled
Upward slightly
Showing socks,
Not, the latest
Tan shoes.
Waiting,
Straining,
Waiting to spring,
Like horses at the gate.
To business!
To business!
Poetry Croft 
Love this. I can imagine the man. But that woman with “the teeth” came to mind too. Don’t know why.
LikeLike
LOL yes! Forgot about those nightmarish teeth. I feel a poem comin on… :-) thank you Louise! Miss you.
LikeLike