Deal with it.

I'd be lying if I said it's fresh in my mind
or that it made much sense then.

All I could focus on at the time
was the synchronized swaying
of the chain hanging from the ceiling fan
like some sort of metronome
setting the tempo of my disillusionment.
I was grateful that the middle bulb was out--
it was enough to feel jaded
without being blinded.

It started off as a thoughtless reaction
at the worst of times
with a list of receipts in the back of my mind.
I didn't need pity or martyrdom
no favors of the flesh
but the right word or caress
in my time of need
would've made my efforts seem worthwhile.

When the caustic phrase struck the air
I wished I'd come prepared for war.

My mother used to say I should've been a lawyer
and by that she meant I was good
at winning arguments, or at least throwing evidence
in the faces of the accused.

Weakened by the work of weekends
I lay there staring at that fan
seething, boiling in my discontent
pretending to listen when there were more words
but really just waiting for the right time to strike
an adder poised for poisoning.

The ones we love are the ones we can hurt best
when they ask for it, of course.
It's another of those things we shouldn't
pride ourselves on, but do.

So when it was my temporary opponent's turn
to fish for that sympathy, I parried with the same
words that set the snowball in motion
making sure my lips curled just right
at the end of the third and last syllable.

Like a sick magician with obvious tricks
I'd won the battle at the risk of losing the ship
as the tears welled up along the eyeliner
and suddenly I switched hats again
with an arm around the torso
and the eventual salty kiss on the cheek.

Sometimes I need the roles reversed
before I can forgive, another of those
shamefully selfish traits I admit.

We spent the night together making up.
By morning it was a tear stitched stronger.
If you ever think that I'm unrealistic
about what it takes to stay in tune with this song
then here's something to mull over.

I'm not better at what we do.
I'm not even sure I have what it takes.
I just have a formula.

And it's true what they say:
Behind every great man in history
was a great...cliche.




Currently reading:
"The Best of Rainer Maria Rilke" translated by Walter Arndt.