MORE LOVE GONE WRONG Or gone wrong loveLament of the 'Other Man'
She has me,
she has him,
big house, two kids, dog, four-wheel
drive, the whole
scene. She has
cake. She
eats it
too.
An hour on the
beach, twenty
minutes in the
car, a
phone call when it's
safe. Cake,
and eats it
too.
Me? Frosting, maybe. Like
licking the
beaters, not
knowing you're
hungry until the
frosting is
gone. Licking the
beaters. She's
home with him
now. I'm in the
dark. The
cold. Beaters
licked clean, soaking in the
sink. She has
cake, and
eats it too. She
snuggles i his
bed, wakes up beside
him. I make
notes, self-reminders of
things I must
tell her next time she
calls, saving
moments, feelings, like
scraps from meals eaten
alone, wrapped up in
syrofoam, freeze-
dried for our
hour next
week.
Frosting. Beaters
soaking in the
sink. He
gets her
life. Cake. She
eats it
too. I
get beaters to
lick.
-jwh- Street Preachers on State, and the State of my Desperation
The night she leaves me for her
husband the streets are unsafe, fundamentalist
rapists use their megaphones like cannons, flash their
tracts like shiny spring-loaded
pricks, swarm like vultures around this bleeding
corpse. Up
and down State Street like hookers they
pounce on my exposed
soul, like vampires to suck up their share, meet their
goal, their one fluid
ounce, then
damn me to hell when I repulse their
advances, like God loves me to hell, like
shit. Damn
right I'm going to h ell you self-righteous piss-ant I'm
already there, looking for a ticket.
-jwh-more poetry