the nudist colony

i want to join
a nudist colony, your
wife tells you,
standing there
naked in the kitchen
stringing garlic
cloves onto a rib
roast. you watch
her slide the pan
into the hot oven,
her breasts brushing
up against
the parsley.
i think that naked
is my true being,
she says, licking
her fingers.
watch the splatter,
you tell her looking
over the top your
newspaper.
i feel free when
i'm naked, i feel like
a child again.
like i'm back at woodstock.
have you seen the size
of that mole
on your butt lately,
you tell her,
wincing. no, what
mole. it's right
there, you take a long
wooden spoon and tap
the mole.
is it symetrical,
different colors.
no, you tell her. it
looks like a fat black
gum drop. oh.
well, so what. maybe
i'll wear granny panties
at the nudist
colony to hide it.
so what do you think,
should we join or what?
it might be fun.
no, you say. i feel
free enough as it is, but
go right ahead sunflower,
do your thing.