" he said. I walked over and picked up the box. I handed him the plastic bag. He opened his front door as I followed him inside. "You can put the box ...ight over there. What's in the bag?" he said. "I work at a video store. Got some movies." I said. He peeked in and then his hand froze. His eyes got big. He shut the bag real quick and handed it back to me. I smiled."Nice place you got here Frank. How do you like living here so far?" I said. "Thanks. We love it. My wife Brenda and I." he said.. And you know, I may be broad-minded but I'm not as broad-minded as that. You know what I mean?" Not really," admitted Albert. "But 'sex poetry'. What exactly is it?" Poems about sex. The before. The after. The during. The wanting. The missing. The having. You know." What about love and affection? What about the virtues of chastity and fidelity? Do these have a part to play in 'sex poetry'?" Of course they do. You don't just write about fucking. Although, fucking's mostly what it's about. And. More

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