Up early just to do some sports br is JC in his boxershorts. br He likes the flowers and the bells br but buys what JC Penney's sells. br br He's out on his own balcony br and thinks the neighbours cannot see. br But from the corner of the street br is one who's dying just to meet br br the desert poet JC Carter br who maybe just that fraction smarter br then other poets in the region, br though poets there are hardly legion. br br She watches him perform the crunch br and gets a new poetic hunch. br She sees him cracking now his neck br and tells herself, oh what the heck, br br with speed and Arizona grace br she drops her body now to face br the morning sun with one great curl br when JC spots the active girl. br br He drops his torso on his knees br does semi-pushups, what a tease, br she watches and is soon impressed br he keeps it going without rest! br br One thousand one he counts aloud br below has gathered a big crowd, br behind him opens the screen door br he's waiting for the words 'do more'. br br But now it is the spouse, all dressed br she takes it in, is not impressed. br Because the girl, in her bikini br has freed herself just like Houdini. br br And in the heat of her endeavour br (perhaps she was extremely clever) br the ties had loosened in the heat br the sight, it's true, was hard to beat. br br Now Carter had been in flagranti br he left the balcony, avanti br and did agree, without a fight br that he would take, each Thursday night br br the trash out back right to the street br and pile it up so it looked neat. br She also gave him other chores br in an attempt to fix his mores. br br I'm sorry if this story got br onto this site, and it is not br that I'm a blabbermouth, no way. br I just tell stories if I may.