6.27.2007

naked pictures of ex-girlfriends


if i were trying to impress you i'd start with a strong, declarative sentence;
but:

braking for bunnies
and pounding for birds
all on the same dirt road.
i knew SHE was really gone
when SHE came
by for "coffee" and wouldn't take the few things SHE'd left;
SHE wasn't wearing the antique silver bracelet
i'd bought
HER
last summer
even though it'd match better with HER outfit than the one SHE had on did.

whiskey tastes best
alone,
and to the buyer.

one of the last attempts was
one of my best
but that didn't aid my intentions.
yes, i've learned from the rest
about what the road to hell is paved with.
chance chimed in
the thunder intrigued her
convinced her to stay a little longer
talking books and poems and high-lighted lines
drunkenly spewed by weary dead guys.
the hard-to-get was fun, i'd felt like i'd earned it
after years of wondering
and, honestly, it was better than i thought it'd be.
the tongue is the strongest
muscle in the human body
per capita
per se
though the heart does a hell of a job
of raising hell
years after the last words have been mouthed.
that being said, i gladly offered my services
and felt like a man again
three times
but i still had to sleep diagonally on those ruffled sheets
and woke with a sore jaw
a hangover
and one less mystery
and haven't really seen her since.
a confidant applauded
my resistance to revert to the Conqueror of the past
in hopes of watching more unfold
but maybe i should have
since there have been plenty of thunderstorms since
and no answered phone calls.
it was akin to hitting a scratch-off ticket and wishing
it was more than a mediocre five-hundred.

maybe it was the shadow my of shoulders
SHE was afraid of--
yet another failure for which to thank my father.

there've been other more costly endeavors
which shall not be spoken of
sober
or now
though i'd exchange money
before blood
and Time
any day
or night
in back rooms of shady shelters from the nine-to-
nine
where pre-gaming is now mandatory.

bumping into walls in the dark now
after turning off lights the roommate left on
and beer tastes better when it's bought for you
because it leaves too soon
so to speak
and it's best not to get attached
to the Ones you never had.

then there was another who fell
for the pensive brown eyes and generous tab
at the bar
and then on a friend's couch
and finally at home field.
again
the skill was offered
and the name was given back
during the consummation of another
nothing nothing nothing.
the next mournings superceded
and the boyfriend was remembered
and i became another regret
and the same thing i'd always hated--
a distraction from what's real
that lasts just long enough to ruin
the illusion of reality.
this one's called me a couple times since
but only intoxicated
and apologized the next day
for the mistakes inflicted upon her
Mistake.

plastic wine glasses make good house-warming gifts.
they're more forgiving when fools trip over them
in dim bedrooms
en route to the toilet.
we used to drink straight from the bottle
after the first glass
and SHE'd accuse me of sucking harder
right before HER more serious claims
brought about the brawls.
what a mean left hook, and a biter.

an old vacuum started phoning me again
and i her
late at night and early in the morning
and our inabilities to drive
brought about by our intoxication
prevented a lot of potentially detrimental encounters
but not all.
the first time she brought a bottle of red from her job
and we killed most of it together before "getting down to business,"
as she put it
and she left me the rest afterwards.
with her it's always been different, easy.
she's more of a giver than receiver
and i'm not one to argue
in person.
the second time she brought white
and was not as impressed with herself
for knowing the name of a variety
i'd never bothered to learn before.
she talked too much, bored me with stories about her job
as i tried not to doze off
and felt legitimately tired when she whiped an unintentional tear from my cheek.
she kept putting her foot in her big mouth
and she was not slick enough in cutting herself off
when she asked why there was a pair of pantyhose in the corner next to my desk--
she already knew SHE used to stay here most nights
so i skipped that verse and repeated the "i've been too busy to clean" chorus/lie
and had to get rid of a lot of things
though we both knew i wouldn't
just in case
i'm wrong.
i passed on the wine the second and last time.
she had two-and-a-half glasses
before disrobing and doing what she'd come for
what we came for
why we came
several times
each.
she must have realized between the first and second times
that i'm washed up
and broken
by, amongst others,
the Owner of the Stockings,
and not worth a token of false gratitude
because she took the rest of the wine with her last time;
no matter, white reminds me of HER.
she opted for consistency
by not attempting a goodbye kiss at my front door
and i sighed in relief at not having had to lie
to a two-dollar scratch-off
not worth the paper it's printed on.
not that i'm a prize to her
or HER
or anyone
apparently
but at least i know that now
and knowing is ha-
lf the battle.

that night
like the rest to follow
i discovered a valuable trick.
i always made fun of HER
for liking that song about the poor bastard
who slept with the body pillow
and the irony doesn't hit me until i wake
with one between my knees and elbows
every mourning
and promise myself that...
(at times like this
keeping the rhythm
should come before
meaning that's best
left
to YOU.)

No comments: