You are currently browsing the monthly archive for January 2009.
Discomfort,
not raging pain,
is what brings her here, now, to this place.
She didn’t have to come; she could have waited just a bit longer
to make sure she had enough reason, conviction to satisfy her and him.
As usual, it was a quick decision.
Or was it?
In the aftermath, every decision autopsied and evaluated,
the final report inevitably inconclusive.
Was she right?
What will he say? Roll his eyes? Sigh?
This is how it’s destined to go.
You’ll be a little stale
but crunchy and sweet
You’ll leave an aftertaste
that demands more of you
I’ll open you up almost immediately
and spill your contents forth
I’ll pull my hair back
lick my lips
take a bite
roll you around in my mouth
savoring your taste
and finally
swallow you down
Here’s how on-the-same-page poeticgrin and I are.
poeticgrin’s email:
Medicated Lady. This is the same conversation we just had.
medicatedlady: What do you like to eat?
poeticgrin: Cheeseburgers.
medicatedlady: I love cheeseburgers. What are you talking about?
My version:
This was our conversation.
Him (yesterday): you paint me as such an evil person
Me: what are you talking about? that post was a tribute to you.
Him: i have no idea what you’re talking about so I cannot tell you what you think I was talking about. I could not be bothered to scroll down and read the message I wrote to you yesterday. Henceforth, clearly you are crazy.
Me: Sigh. (I am forced to cut and paste his email)
Him: Cheezeburgerz are da bomb.
Me: Indeed.
Dearest reader, if you have no idea what we’re talking about, we apparently do not, either.
because no one else has ever called me or my writing gentle
because you don’t tire of me
because you recognize insufferable positivity is positively insufferable
because you encourage me to curse
because somehow, some way, you get me
because you pacify my angst with your words and tell me
there, there
it’s not so bad
you’re not so bad
Anonymous poetry is better than anonymous sex
While he’ll snore and creep like a coward
You, dearest reader, will see me in the morning and be able to look me in the soul
He’ll bear his ass
But you’ll bear witness and be strong enough to comment on it
Life is meandering and stupid
Let’s get to the fucking punchline already
Let’s laugh at everyone else
and pretend none of the pretention applies to us
Let’s point and stare at all the idiots
Let’s be above them
Let’s ruin our days, years, lives
and never know what for
or why or how come
Let’s do this because we have been patiently waiting for the funny part of the joke like cattle going to the slaughter.
there’s dirt and food under my nails
simply washing my hands doesn’t rid me of it
I have to painstakingly dig under each one
water purifying them
rinsing the grit away
as if.
So
he’ll be leaving soon
when he’s been gone
all along.
For a flash of a second, someone turned the blaring overhead lights on when I had painstakingly taken measures to make sure the room was dim.
Low lighting hides all flaws or at the very least, softens them. What’s seen in starkness is garish but undeniably true. I only meant for him to take refuge in the illusion. But.
One can’t un-see what they have seen.
Your Sympathies: