by Stephen Gold

“One in four French aren’t having sex, poll reveals.”
—The Times

“Chéri, do come with me to bed.”
“Lapin, you know I would,” I said.
“But though you’re hungry for amour,
And I’m entranced by your allure,
I feel an even greater need
To check up on my Facebook feed.”

Une autre nuit, and we are free
For some romantic revelry.
I hear you whisper, “Je t’adore.”
Your négligée falls to the floor.
Je t’aime, aussi, but on the whole,
I’d rather watch the Super Bowl.

Au lit I lie, un homme alone.
Since you walked out, I’m on my own.
Though désolé that you have left,
I’m not entirely bereft.
There’s so much more to life than sex.
Adieu, I must get back to X.