Drunk on Shirley Temples

Spit at him the ways
he's been down this lane before:
Oversexed, underfed
with a welcome outstayed
by days.

There's always a cat
who gives too much affection
as if to make up
for those nights in between.
The drinking of time
and passing of water
becomes his old blur--
familiar at worst.

Six pounds were lost
though not ever missed.
He means to buy matches
to keep for her porcelain.

He almost braved to hitchhike back home
leaving a note on her mother's best lace
but then came the fear
that no one would stop
and no one would start
to know him again.

No comments: