I feigned sleep as she glanced at the clock on the nightstand. An almost imperceptible frown crossed her face as we shared one common thought - only one more hour together.
She eased off the bed, careful not to wake me. I watched her through half-shut eyes as she walked across the hotel room.
1511.
Still wearing only my sweater from the night before, she stood by the window staring at the skyline but seeing nothing. The image of her silhouette burned inside me.
A thought crossed my mind and I hated myself for it. I wanted her to leave without saying a word. No goodbyes, no promises of phonecalls or emails, no hope for another last night. And I knew she was thinking the same.
Only 45 more minutes and I'm scared to death.
I need to tell her I love her. She would laugh and nothing would change. But worse would be for her to feel the same. Worse because we can only exist right here in this hotel room.
1511.
No husbands or wives. No commitments or obligations. Just an island with nothing between her skin and mine. Nothing but her lips and mine.
I pull the sheets tighter around me as she steps in the shower.
Just 30 more minutes and I smell her on me. Her perfume and her sweat. Her makeup and her sex. It washes over me.
The water shuts off and my heart pounds in my chest. I just want her to leave so that nothing remains. She opens the door and her eyes meet mine.
15 more minutes.
I start to speak.
Sunday, March 15, 2026
It Doesn't Help To Be Beautiful
I could feel him as he looked right through me
he was reading Locke and asked aloud
"now who was that guy who wrote Oedipe?"
"Francois Marie Arouet" I half-whispered
He thumbed through his shelf looking for the answer
opened one book then another
"I know I have it here somewhere" he said
"His pen name was Voltaire" I murmured
a little softer this time
"Didn't he have a one word name" he asked
"like Madonna or Oddjob"
"Maybe I should call Dave. He'll know"
"They stole his body and threw it in the garbage" I said to no one
"He's not home. I forgot it's Saturday"
He logged on to his laptop
"It's right on the tip of my tongue"
"They never found his brain" I thought to myself
"This is driving me crazy! Why can't I think of his name?"
He was exasperated now
I hated him when he was like this
Why won't he listen to me?
"IT'S FUCKING VOLTAIRE, YOU STUPID ASSHOLE!" I screamed and slammed the bathroom door
he was reading Locke and asked aloud
"now who was that guy who wrote Oedipe?"
"Francois Marie Arouet" I half-whispered
He thumbed through his shelf looking for the answer
opened one book then another
"I know I have it here somewhere" he said
"His pen name was Voltaire" I murmured
a little softer this time
"Didn't he have a one word name" he asked
"like Madonna or Oddjob"
"Maybe I should call Dave. He'll know"
"They stole his body and threw it in the garbage" I said to no one
"He's not home. I forgot it's Saturday"
He logged on to his laptop
"It's right on the tip of my tongue"
"They never found his brain" I thought to myself
"This is driving me crazy! Why can't I think of his name?"
He was exasperated now
I hated him when he was like this
Why won't he listen to me?
"IT'S FUCKING VOLTAIRE, YOU STUPID ASSHOLE!" I screamed and slammed the bathroom door
Mein Traum
"What do you keep in your attic?" she asked
as I showed her around my house
Just some old boxes and a few books
maybe a photo album or two
I don't go in there much anymore
"Can I see what's inside?"
Nah, it's really a mess in there
I've been meaning to clean up
and throw some stuff away
You wouldn't be interested with anything I have
"Well, the outside of your house is fabulous"
Yeah, I inherited it from my dad when he died
I still have some of his stuff up there
"Are you sure you don't want to show me what's inside"
You better get going before it gets too dark
"You're probably right. I had fun though"
I was barely hearing her now
"You want me to patch your sweater first?"
No, I'll just wear a jacket over it
It's getting cold in here anyhow
"Can you still help me paint my place next weekend?"
Sure, I'd love to help. Goodbye
I shut the door before she looked back
Turning out the lights, I walked up the steps
into the attic & locked the door behind me
as I showed her around my house
Just some old boxes and a few books
maybe a photo album or two
I don't go in there much anymore
"Can I see what's inside?"
Nah, it's really a mess in there
I've been meaning to clean up
and throw some stuff away
You wouldn't be interested with anything I have
"Well, the outside of your house is fabulous"
Yeah, I inherited it from my dad when he died
I still have some of his stuff up there
"Are you sure you don't want to show me what's inside"
You better get going before it gets too dark
"You're probably right. I had fun though"
I was barely hearing her now
"You want me to patch your sweater first?"
No, I'll just wear a jacket over it
It's getting cold in here anyhow
"Can you still help me paint my place next weekend?"
Sure, I'd love to help. Goodbye
I shut the door before she looked back
Turning out the lights, I walked up the steps
into the attic & locked the door behind me
Things She Left Behind
her Weezer shirt stole from an ex-boyfriend
Organic vanilla soymilk in the back of the fridge
a shot glass-shaped hole in the wall
cigarette burns on the bathtub shelf
a pair of her panties she didn't know I took
some James Taylor MP3's on my old laptop
a two inch scar on the back of my neck
her favorite hairbrush in my glove compartment
A half-read copy of Slaughterhouse 5
a muffled scream that I still hear
two mascaras inside the couch
the smell of her perfume on my flannel sheets
a crumpled photo I pulled from the trash
a 4am voicemail left on my phone
an empty prescription bottle hidden in her drawer
dried-up rose petals under the bed
a tear-stained invite to her sister's wedding
Nude 5 lipstick on my favorite shirt collar
a stray blonde hair on the passenger seat
a bottle of rain from our trip to Belize
a phone number scrawled on the back of a dollar
a spare key to her grandma's house
her road-worn reeboks in the hall closet
a note left for only me.
Organic vanilla soymilk in the back of the fridge
a shot glass-shaped hole in the wall
cigarette burns on the bathtub shelf
a pair of her panties she didn't know I took
some James Taylor MP3's on my old laptop
a two inch scar on the back of my neck
her favorite hairbrush in my glove compartment
A half-read copy of Slaughterhouse 5
a muffled scream that I still hear
two mascaras inside the couch
the smell of her perfume on my flannel sheets
a crumpled photo I pulled from the trash
a 4am voicemail left on my phone
an empty prescription bottle hidden in her drawer
dried-up rose petals under the bed
a tear-stained invite to her sister's wedding
Nude 5 lipstick on my favorite shirt collar
a stray blonde hair on the passenger seat
a bottle of rain from our trip to Belize
a phone number scrawled on the back of a dollar
a spare key to her grandma's house
her road-worn reeboks in the hall closet
a note left for only me.
she asked
why don't you like when I wear perfume?
do you want to come inside?
what does your dad do?
you're not going to leave, are you?
is this going to hurt?
why do your friends call me A.B.?
how come you're so quiet tonight?
why do you keep staring at me?
will you go to the hospital with me?
what kind of calls did you get?
you're not scared, are you?
do i look ok in this dress?
do you want me to go now?
will you please just stay until i fall asleep?
are you crying?
oh my God, this is it, isn't it?
did you try to call this morning?
can you come over to talk?
is it ok if i dim the lights a bit?
i'm not holding on too tight, am i?
is he a good doctor?
will you please just go?
you're going to hate me when i'm gone, aren't you?
do you like when i do that?
do you want to come inside?
what does your dad do?
you're not going to leave, are you?
is this going to hurt?
why do your friends call me A.B.?
how come you're so quiet tonight?
why do you keep staring at me?
will you go to the hospital with me?
what kind of calls did you get?
you're not scared, are you?
do i look ok in this dress?
do you want me to go now?
will you please just stay until i fall asleep?
are you crying?
oh my God, this is it, isn't it?
did you try to call this morning?
can you come over to talk?
is it ok if i dim the lights a bit?
i'm not holding on too tight, am i?
is he a good doctor?
will you please just go?
you're going to hate me when i'm gone, aren't you?
do you like when i do that?
Wash It Off
I see the stain
but I can't seem to wash it off
how did I get so ugly
I know everyone will see
Old Spice and Pall Malls
but I can't seem to wash it out
Jim Beam sweat mixes
with lemonade tears
stubble and calloused hands
but I can't seem to push them away
I know I should be stronger
this is how paralysis feels
gruff whispers and moans
but I can't seem to block them out
pain stings my eyes
he said it won't always hurt
confusion fogs my mind
but I can't seem to clear it up
I bleed inside and out
they never taught me about this
secrets begging to be revealed
but I can't seem to let them out
stuck in this nightmare
that makes me less than a man
but I can't seem to wash it off
how did I get so ugly
I know everyone will see
Old Spice and Pall Malls
but I can't seem to wash it out
Jim Beam sweat mixes
with lemonade tears
stubble and calloused hands
but I can't seem to push them away
I know I should be stronger
this is how paralysis feels
gruff whispers and moans
but I can't seem to block them out
pain stings my eyes
he said it won't always hurt
confusion fogs my mind
but I can't seem to clear it up
I bleed inside and out
they never taught me about this
secrets begging to be revealed
but I can't seem to let them out
stuck in this nightmare
that makes me less than a man
The Other Side Of The Wall
I glide into the room, confident and perfectly aloof
a nod of the head to her, elbow-grasping shake to him
a few "you look amazing"'s and "did you see the game"s
"Now won't you please excuse me. I'll brink you back a drink"
I walk into the other room
How did I get so ugly? My flesh peels off the bone
my voice cracks and my eye twitches uncontrollably
as I begin to scratch at my face
I limp back to the party
"You were drinking a scotch & soda, right?"
"now what were you saying about your daughter?
"A Vassar grad? You must be very proud"
"oh, a page. I need to take this in the other room"
I stride back to the other side of the wall
running my hands through my greasy scraggly hair
if begins to fall out in clumps, spilling onto the floor
exposing the scars and scabs on my scalp
I crawl back to the scene
"oh, thank you but I can't take credit for it"
"it was put together by a designer from Home Expo"
"I liked how he combined different colors and textures"
"Let me go get you his business card"
I saunter into the back room
I poke at the tumor protruding from my stomach
scraping away the dead skin and crust
it's twice as big as it was this morning
I slumped to the floor and drifted to sleep
a nod of the head to her, elbow-grasping shake to him
a few "you look amazing"'s and "did you see the game"s
"Now won't you please excuse me. I'll brink you back a drink"
I walk into the other room
How did I get so ugly? My flesh peels off the bone
my voice cracks and my eye twitches uncontrollably
as I begin to scratch at my face
I limp back to the party
"You were drinking a scotch & soda, right?"
"now what were you saying about your daughter?
"A Vassar grad? You must be very proud"
"oh, a page. I need to take this in the other room"
I stride back to the other side of the wall
running my hands through my greasy scraggly hair
if begins to fall out in clumps, spilling onto the floor
exposing the scars and scabs on my scalp
I crawl back to the scene
"oh, thank you but I can't take credit for it"
"it was put together by a designer from Home Expo"
"I liked how he combined different colors and textures"
"Let me go get you his business card"
I saunter into the back room
I poke at the tumor protruding from my stomach
scraping away the dead skin and crust
it's twice as big as it was this morning
I slumped to the floor and drifted to sleep
The Seed...The Flower...The Wilting - aka Random Couplings
A secret party, our friends watching Buckner's muff
our teenage lust, making out in the next room
In your car outside the haunted house
you heart still racing against my chest
You catch the eye of another fool
blonder, taller, popular
Opposite tables in the public library
a glance. a smile. nervous conversation
we collapsed after a breathless workout
I taste your sweat & you taste mine
You go to college, I'm still at home
we don't even pretend to try
You grabbed my butt and said "nice game"
1/2 drunk intramural softball hero
You ask to invite a friend over
I didn't know what you were talking about
So many softball heroes, so little time
You move on to your next conquest
We started talking on the ferry to Ft Sumter
You were restoring a house on the Battery
Laying in the sand on Sullivan's Island
out greatest fear in the world? the sun coming up
I understood that you had to go back
but I couldn't watch you drive away
The first haircut I paid more than $9 for
I closed my eyes as you ran your fingers through
Another haircut 5 weeks later, this time at home
you'd get arrested if you wore that at work
Too much passion. Not enough in common
but we still held on every now and then
Trading drinks at the Rock Bottom Brewery
mourning your marriage, dead four hours
Started in the elevator on the way up to my room
didn't stop until the ride back down
There was nothing left to say or do
No illusions, no promises, no goodbyes
I watched as angels carried you down from heaven
and placed you by my side
every hour, every minute, every second
I thanked God for having you in my life
Your parents sat next to me at your party
If they only knew, they'd hate me even more
our teenage lust, making out in the next room
In your car outside the haunted house
you heart still racing against my chest
You catch the eye of another fool
blonder, taller, popular
Opposite tables in the public library
a glance. a smile. nervous conversation
we collapsed after a breathless workout
I taste your sweat & you taste mine
You go to college, I'm still at home
we don't even pretend to try
You grabbed my butt and said "nice game"
1/2 drunk intramural softball hero
You ask to invite a friend over
I didn't know what you were talking about
So many softball heroes, so little time
You move on to your next conquest
We started talking on the ferry to Ft Sumter
You were restoring a house on the Battery
Laying in the sand on Sullivan's Island
out greatest fear in the world? the sun coming up
I understood that you had to go back
but I couldn't watch you drive away
The first haircut I paid more than $9 for
I closed my eyes as you ran your fingers through
Another haircut 5 weeks later, this time at home
you'd get arrested if you wore that at work
Too much passion. Not enough in common
but we still held on every now and then
Trading drinks at the Rock Bottom Brewery
mourning your marriage, dead four hours
Started in the elevator on the way up to my room
didn't stop until the ride back down
There was nothing left to say or do
No illusions, no promises, no goodbyes
I watched as angels carried you down from heaven
and placed you by my side
every hour, every minute, every second
I thanked God for having you in my life
Your parents sat next to me at your party
If they only knew, they'd hate me even more
What If
What if I was poison?
Would you still taste me?
Absinthe, demerol & hemlock
killing you from the inside
What if I was a liar?
Would you still trust me?
forked tongue, twisted mind
you'll never know the real me
What if I was diseased?
Would you still fuck me?
you can't tell from the outside
One part pleasure, 10 parts pain
What if I was evil?
Would you still follow me?
through the dark alleys
& into this abandoned warehouse?
What if I was broke?
Would you still need me?
empty room on a folding chair
eating baked beans from a can
What if I was ugly?
Would you still want me?
grotesque, pock-marked albino
maybe this isn't a mask
What if I was sadistic?
Would you still listen to me?
scratching, biting, clawing
just another plaything
What if I was contagious?
Would you still hold me?
fever, nausea, hallucinations
you're starting to feel it too
What if I was numb inside?
Would you still love me?
hate, passion, rage, yearning
things that I'll never feel
What if I was dying?
Would you still nurse me?
shallow breathing and faint pulse
maybe not worth saving
Would you still taste me?
Absinthe, demerol & hemlock
killing you from the inside
What if I was a liar?
Would you still trust me?
forked tongue, twisted mind
you'll never know the real me
What if I was diseased?
Would you still fuck me?
you can't tell from the outside
One part pleasure, 10 parts pain
What if I was evil?
Would you still follow me?
through the dark alleys
& into this abandoned warehouse?
What if I was broke?
Would you still need me?
empty room on a folding chair
eating baked beans from a can
What if I was ugly?
Would you still want me?
grotesque, pock-marked albino
maybe this isn't a mask
What if I was sadistic?
Would you still listen to me?
scratching, biting, clawing
just another plaything
What if I was contagious?
Would you still hold me?
fever, nausea, hallucinations
you're starting to feel it too
What if I was numb inside?
Would you still love me?
hate, passion, rage, yearning
things that I'll never feel
What if I was dying?
Would you still nurse me?
shallow breathing and faint pulse
maybe not worth saving
She Gave It Away
Lara was born with a innocent heart
chastity, virtue and simple grace
but she gave it away
to a thief. in a car. for a promise
Her poet's mind continued to grow
passion, ambition and a muse's eye
but she gave it away
to a pipe. in an alley. for a rush
Grasping on to her Pollyanna soul
her faith in the goodness of man
but she gave it away
to a trick. in a dive. for a fix
They couldn't take her wayfaring spirit
freedom, gypsy wanderlust
but she gave it away
to a judge. in a cell. for a year
Nothing left now but tomorrow
hopes, dreams, desires
but she gave it away
to a razor. in a tub. for ever
chastity, virtue and simple grace
but she gave it away
to a thief. in a car. for a promise
Her poet's mind continued to grow
passion, ambition and a muse's eye
but she gave it away
to a pipe. in an alley. for a rush
Grasping on to her Pollyanna soul
her faith in the goodness of man
but she gave it away
to a trick. in a dive. for a fix
They couldn't take her wayfaring spirit
freedom, gypsy wanderlust
but she gave it away
to a judge. in a cell. for a year
Nothing left now but tomorrow
hopes, dreams, desires
but she gave it away
to a razor. in a tub. for ever
It's Just Sex
I hope you don't think that I do this a lot. I mean, we both had been drinking and just got caught up in the moment. I don't know what is was about you that just brought something out in me. I don't know if it was your perfume or your dress or the way you kept brushing your hair out of your eyes. And I never usually dance. But going from the bar to the dance floor to the corner to your apartment seemed to flow so naturally.
But still ..... it's just sex.
Even now, it's great just to get together and blow off steam. It was awkward at first, but now it seems so easy between us. No commitment. No worrying about who calls who, who dates who. We definitely don't have the same problems real couples have - one of us is feeling lonely and we give the other a call. No big deal. No strings.
Because when you think about it ... it's just sex.
But even now that we hang out a bit more, I don't feel as suffocated as I would if you were my "girlfriend" (whatever the hell that means). And it just makes sense for you to have a key. It's not like I'm seeing anyone else right now anyhow. Not that I couldn't, because it's not like we're exclusive or anything like that.
Even with the other stuff .... it's just sex
Thanks for letting me sleep over last night. Usually I head home right afterwards, but for some reasons I just felt like laying there. Maybe I should keep a change of clothes at your place just in case. I don't want you to feel like I'm invading, but you know - just in case. And I really liked the mahi-mahi you made last night. I had no idea you could cook.
Still ... it's just sex
Was that your mom that you were talking to on the phone? I guess it's ok that you called me your "boyfriend". I hadn't really thought about it until now but I suppose it would be hard to explain to her what I really am. Your lover? Your booty call? Your friend with benefits? Yeah, I hate that term too.
You couldn't tell her .... it's just sex
I can't explain it but I think about you all the time. I catch myself daydreaming at work and my friends have started to ask me what's going on. I know it's irrational considering we're not "serious" or anything. I feel stupid even telling you about it because we've never really talked about "us" or a "future".
Because it's just sex ........ right?
But still ..... it's just sex.
Even now, it's great just to get together and blow off steam. It was awkward at first, but now it seems so easy between us. No commitment. No worrying about who calls who, who dates who. We definitely don't have the same problems real couples have - one of us is feeling lonely and we give the other a call. No big deal. No strings.
Because when you think about it ... it's just sex.
But even now that we hang out a bit more, I don't feel as suffocated as I would if you were my "girlfriend" (whatever the hell that means). And it just makes sense for you to have a key. It's not like I'm seeing anyone else right now anyhow. Not that I couldn't, because it's not like we're exclusive or anything like that.
Even with the other stuff .... it's just sex
Thanks for letting me sleep over last night. Usually I head home right afterwards, but for some reasons I just felt like laying there. Maybe I should keep a change of clothes at your place just in case. I don't want you to feel like I'm invading, but you know - just in case. And I really liked the mahi-mahi you made last night. I had no idea you could cook.
Still ... it's just sex
Was that your mom that you were talking to on the phone? I guess it's ok that you called me your "boyfriend". I hadn't really thought about it until now but I suppose it would be hard to explain to her what I really am. Your lover? Your booty call? Your friend with benefits? Yeah, I hate that term too.
You couldn't tell her .... it's just sex
I can't explain it but I think about you all the time. I catch myself daydreaming at work and my friends have started to ask me what's going on. I know it's irrational considering we're not "serious" or anything. I feel stupid even telling you about it because we've never really talked about "us" or a "future".
Because it's just sex ........ right?
Safe
Curled up fetal ball under the bed
Here no one can touch me
safe from harm and danger
orange flames lick the bedroom door
Surrounded by my silent friends
they'll protect me, right?
Leonardo Lion & Ed the Penguin
the bedroom getting warmer now
Faint cries from outside the window
I slide tighter against the wall
further shielded from the crackling menace
Dora the Explorer singes from the heat
Starting to cough puffs of grey
I pull the pillow over my eyes
if I can't see it then it can't see me
the smoke sinks lower in the room
My sanctuary has kept me safe before
from monsters & bears & demons
I squeeze my hands over my ears
to drown out the screeching beeps
Throat starts burning & scratching
eyes well and tear up
Mommy is going to be so angry at me
I drift to sleep in my safest place
Here no one can touch me
safe from harm and danger
orange flames lick the bedroom door
Surrounded by my silent friends
they'll protect me, right?
Leonardo Lion & Ed the Penguin
the bedroom getting warmer now
Faint cries from outside the window
I slide tighter against the wall
further shielded from the crackling menace
Dora the Explorer singes from the heat
Starting to cough puffs of grey
I pull the pillow over my eyes
if I can't see it then it can't see me
the smoke sinks lower in the room
My sanctuary has kept me safe before
from monsters & bears & demons
I squeeze my hands over my ears
to drown out the screeching beeps
Throat starts burning & scratching
eyes well and tear up
Mommy is going to be so angry at me
I drift to sleep in my safest place
Then What?
If I dialed your number
if I told you how I felt
Then what?
If I drove to your house
if I knocked on your door
Then what?
If you invited me inside
if you took me by the hand
Then what?
If I pulled your body to mine
if I held your face in my hands
Then what?
If you pressed your lips to mine
if your hands started to roam
Then what?
If I started to speak
if you put your fingers over my mouth
Then what?
If we walked up the steps
if we walked into your room
Then what?
If we laid down on your bed
if we never let each other go
Then what?
If I told you I loved you
if you told me you loved me back
Then what...?
if I told you how I felt
Then what?
If I drove to your house
if I knocked on your door
Then what?
If you invited me inside
if you took me by the hand
Then what?
If I pulled your body to mine
if I held your face in my hands
Then what?
If you pressed your lips to mine
if your hands started to roam
Then what?
If I started to speak
if you put your fingers over my mouth
Then what?
If we walked up the steps
if we walked into your room
Then what?
If we laid down on your bed
if we never let each other go
Then what?
If I told you I loved you
if you told me you loved me back
Then what...?
Things She'll Never See
My hands shaking as I write her name
my underwear on the floor
my calendar marked with our personal milestones
me slamming a glass against the wall in frustration
The letter I wrote to my dad
the notes I keep from another woman
my "trophies" from past relationships
the Call History on my cell
The email that I never sent her
the bottle of wine I'm saving for someone else
her picture I took when she wasn't looking
me whispering to her best friend
The post-it where I scribed her first name next to my last
my key to someone else's apartment
the suitcase I keep locked in the attic
A bullet in my dresser drawer
my underwear on the floor
my calendar marked with our personal milestones
me slamming a glass against the wall in frustration
The letter I wrote to my dad
the notes I keep from another woman
my "trophies" from past relationships
the Call History on my cell
The email that I never sent her
the bottle of wine I'm saving for someone else
her picture I took when she wasn't looking
me whispering to her best friend
The post-it where I scribed her first name next to my last
my key to someone else's apartment
the suitcase I keep locked in the attic
A bullet in my dresser drawer
And I'm Not Even Sorry
I had gotten off work and realized that I really didn't have anything at home to make for dinner. Not being in the mood for anything fastfood-related, I decided to swing by the Chilis/Applebees/TGIF place that was on my way. It would be pretty quick and I could use a beer or two after the day I had.
I walked right by the hostess and sat down at the bar. Even before I picked up the menu, I saw a very familiar looking woman a half dozen stools away. She looked backed at me and smiled so she must have known who I was. I nodded and scanned the menu as I tried to figure out where I knew her from.
Ah-ha, Jeff's party last summer. Kevin's date, Sheila or Sheena, maybe Sharon. Real meek and shy girl, as I remembered. Anyway, I had seen Kevin the previous week and he mentioned that he was getting ready for a business trip to Orlando. He was a nice enough guy too, but for some reason I just didn't like him, hard to put my finger on why.
I took a second and got into The Mode, then I slid down a few stools closer.
"Sheena, right?"
"Sheila actually, but very close ****. I didn't think you would remember me".
We ordered and started talking back and forth. She worked in a daycare, she was supposed to meet a girlfriend there but she had just called to say she wasn't going to make it..... and she was still dating Kevin.
"You are? Huh. That's weird."
"Why is that weird?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know. It's just that I was talking to him last week and for some reason I got the impression that he was going down to Florida this week to meet up with a girl he dated in college".
Her jaw dropped open just for a second until she was able to compose herself.
"Uh, no. He is in Orlando this week, but it's for work. He said he's meeting some new client down there".
"Geez, I don't know how I got so mixed up. I must have got him confused with someone else".
With the seed of doubt planted, I went to work on her.
I asked how they were getting along, what they did over the holidays, was he calling her while he was out of town, etc etc. After five minutes, she ordered a shot. After ten minutes she started talking about how she didn't trust him and how he doesn't treat her as well as he should.
Another shot. Then another. Then another.
Now that she really wasn't in any condition to drive, I offered to take her home.
"But what about my car? I can't just leave it here" she said.
"No no. Don't worry about it. I'll swing by and pick you up in the morning on the way to work and you can get it then".
I took her home and walked her inside to make sure she got there ok.
"Thank you so much for taking care of me tonight. You're a great friend" she said as she gave me a friendly hug. Without letting go of each other, we backed off a bit. She leaned back in and we kissed.
I left a couple hours later. After I went into work the next morning, I realized that I had completely forgotten about her and her car. Oopsy. I heard later that she and Kevin broke up but I never heard why. She tried to call me a few times after that but thanks to caller ID, I haven't talked to her since.
I walked right by the hostess and sat down at the bar. Even before I picked up the menu, I saw a very familiar looking woman a half dozen stools away. She looked backed at me and smiled so she must have known who I was. I nodded and scanned the menu as I tried to figure out where I knew her from.
Ah-ha, Jeff's party last summer. Kevin's date, Sheila or Sheena, maybe Sharon. Real meek and shy girl, as I remembered. Anyway, I had seen Kevin the previous week and he mentioned that he was getting ready for a business trip to Orlando. He was a nice enough guy too, but for some reason I just didn't like him, hard to put my finger on why.
I took a second and got into The Mode, then I slid down a few stools closer.
"Sheena, right?"
"Sheila actually, but very close ****. I didn't think you would remember me".
We ordered and started talking back and forth. She worked in a daycare, she was supposed to meet a girlfriend there but she had just called to say she wasn't going to make it..... and she was still dating Kevin.
"You are? Huh. That's weird."
"Why is that weird?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know. It's just that I was talking to him last week and for some reason I got the impression that he was going down to Florida this week to meet up with a girl he dated in college".
Her jaw dropped open just for a second until she was able to compose herself.
"Uh, no. He is in Orlando this week, but it's for work. He said he's meeting some new client down there".
"Geez, I don't know how I got so mixed up. I must have got him confused with someone else".
With the seed of doubt planted, I went to work on her.
I asked how they were getting along, what they did over the holidays, was he calling her while he was out of town, etc etc. After five minutes, she ordered a shot. After ten minutes she started talking about how she didn't trust him and how he doesn't treat her as well as he should.
Another shot. Then another. Then another.
Now that she really wasn't in any condition to drive, I offered to take her home.
"But what about my car? I can't just leave it here" she said.
"No no. Don't worry about it. I'll swing by and pick you up in the morning on the way to work and you can get it then".
I took her home and walked her inside to make sure she got there ok.
"Thank you so much for taking care of me tonight. You're a great friend" she said as she gave me a friendly hug. Without letting go of each other, we backed off a bit. She leaned back in and we kissed.
I left a couple hours later. After I went into work the next morning, I realized that I had completely forgotten about her and her car. Oopsy. I heard later that she and Kevin broke up but I never heard why. She tried to call me a few times after that but thanks to caller ID, I haven't talked to her since.
Viola Sororia
I watched her hop on the bus
with a wildflower in her hair
Not noticing the rude jerks in the seats
she reached up and grabbed a handle
without looking away from her copy of Manifesta
I gazed from behind a stock broker
The flower was blue with heart-shaped leaves
A violet or a poppy, I wouldn't know
She must have reached a funny passage
her smile came and drifted back to a gracious moue
I wondered what struck her as funny
It fell as the bus lurched to a sudden stop
The blue petals glided slowly to the floor
unnoticed among the industrious commuters
not recognizing the exquisite beauty beneath them
Her dark hair now unadorned
I worked my way forward towards her
My hearting beating as a foot grazed the stem
then another barely missed crushing it entirely
it's brushed under a seat to relative safety
The bus clears enough for me to reach it
the wildflower seemed tiny in my hand
I looked up just in time to watch her hop off the bus
still looking intently at her book
I held up the flower against her profile as she walked away
until she ducked inside an old stone church
then I wrapped it in a hankerchief
then slid it softly in my breast pocket
with a wildflower in her hair
Not noticing the rude jerks in the seats
she reached up and grabbed a handle
without looking away from her copy of Manifesta
I gazed from behind a stock broker
The flower was blue with heart-shaped leaves
A violet or a poppy, I wouldn't know
She must have reached a funny passage
her smile came and drifted back to a gracious moue
I wondered what struck her as funny
It fell as the bus lurched to a sudden stop
The blue petals glided slowly to the floor
unnoticed among the industrious commuters
not recognizing the exquisite beauty beneath them
Her dark hair now unadorned
I worked my way forward towards her
My hearting beating as a foot grazed the stem
then another barely missed crushing it entirely
it's brushed under a seat to relative safety
The bus clears enough for me to reach it
the wildflower seemed tiny in my hand
I looked up just in time to watch her hop off the bus
still looking intently at her book
I held up the flower against her profile as she walked away
until she ducked inside an old stone church
then I wrapped it in a hankerchief
then slid it softly in my breast pocket
She Pretended Not To Notice
She pretended not to notice
when I walked in the bar
when I sat down next to her
when I breathed in her perfume
She pretended not to notice
when I brushed her knee
when she touched my hand
when I spoke her name
She pretended not to notice
when I asked for the check
when I followed her out
when I followed her home
She pretended not to notice
when she left her front door open
when her button came undone
when I let out a gasp
She pretended not to notice
me standing behind her
my hand on her hip
my teeth on her neck
when I walked in the bar
when I sat down next to her
when I breathed in her perfume
She pretended not to notice
when I brushed her knee
when she touched my hand
when I spoke her name
She pretended not to notice
when I asked for the check
when I followed her out
when I followed her home
She pretended not to notice
when she left her front door open
when her button came undone
when I let out a gasp
She pretended not to notice
me standing behind her
my hand on her hip
my teeth on her neck
Gordian? Not
I'm not a paradox to be reconciled
not a riddle to be solved
not a mystery to be deduced
not a game to be played
not a prize to be won
not a book to be read
not a puzzle to put together
not a mess to be cleaned
not a lesson to be learned
not an animal to be tamed
not a code to be broken
not a riddle to be solved
not a mystery to be deduced
not a game to be played
not a prize to be won
not a book to be read
not a puzzle to put together
not a mess to be cleaned
not a lesson to be learned
not an animal to be tamed
not a code to be broken
Note On My Windshield
Dear ****.
I never thought that we'd reach the point where'd I'd hate you with as much intensity as I used to love you. But that's there I am now. I can't even remember what it was about you that caused me to let you in. You knew I wasn't in a good place when we first met but instead of comforting me, you took advantage of my frailty for reasons I still don't understand.
****, I'm sure it'll be a little ego boost for you to know that I'm still not over you after all this time. And I'm sure you have that sick little smile on your face as you're reading this. Why can't you just be an asshole all the time instead of just at the worst possible time? That way at least I would have known to completely avoid you?
It's so embarassing to have crawled back to you all those times. The sad thing is that I'll probably do it again. How pathetic is that to realize what a disease you are, but still not be able to stop infecting myself? Worse still is that your virus has spread everywhere I go. I can't drive anywhere or see any of my friends without being reminded of places we've been and things we've done. It's like a shitcloud following me everywhere.
If you ever cared for me even just a tiny bit, please just leave me alone. Even if I call you in a moment of weakness, please don't answer. And if I knock on your door, just pretend you're not home. I don't think I can handle seeing you but I also know I can't stop myself from trying. So you're going to have to do it for me.
****, you hurt me just because you could. But now that you've had your fun, please just let me be. I don't know what I'd do if you were in my life again.
******
I never thought that we'd reach the point where'd I'd hate you with as much intensity as I used to love you. But that's there I am now. I can't even remember what it was about you that caused me to let you in. You knew I wasn't in a good place when we first met but instead of comforting me, you took advantage of my frailty for reasons I still don't understand.
****, I'm sure it'll be a little ego boost for you to know that I'm still not over you after all this time. And I'm sure you have that sick little smile on your face as you're reading this. Why can't you just be an asshole all the time instead of just at the worst possible time? That way at least I would have known to completely avoid you?
It's so embarassing to have crawled back to you all those times. The sad thing is that I'll probably do it again. How pathetic is that to realize what a disease you are, but still not be able to stop infecting myself? Worse still is that your virus has spread everywhere I go. I can't drive anywhere or see any of my friends without being reminded of places we've been and things we've done. It's like a shitcloud following me everywhere.
If you ever cared for me even just a tiny bit, please just leave me alone. Even if I call you in a moment of weakness, please don't answer. And if I knock on your door, just pretend you're not home. I don't think I can handle seeing you but I also know I can't stop myself from trying. So you're going to have to do it for me.
****, you hurt me just because you could. But now that you've had your fun, please just let me be. I don't know what I'd do if you were in my life again.
******
Fuck It, I'm Going To Mexico
Ten degrees too cold for my Shaft jacket
six degrees from where I want to be
Rafters and studs and drywall and mud
fuck it, I'm going to Mexico
The doctor's never seen what I have
she'll never know what I don't
Stitches and pills and iodine and bills
fuck it, I'm going to Mexico
Running 'round to keep every door closed
light creeps through the keyhole
Sitcoms and news and cigars and booze
fuck it, I'm going to Mexico
Chinese takeout, three days in a row
Li Ma doesn't even work there anymore
Styrofoam and soy and dim sum and koi
fuck it, I'm going to Mexico
Same conversation, four hundreth time
the more they talk, the less I listen
phobias and shame and repression and blame
fuck it, I'm going to Mexico
Four things left from my room back home
survived countless trashcans and gasoline
letters and veil and pesos and shale
fuck it, I'm taking my dog down to Mexico
six degrees from where I want to be
Rafters and studs and drywall and mud
fuck it, I'm going to Mexico
The doctor's never seen what I have
she'll never know what I don't
Stitches and pills and iodine and bills
fuck it, I'm going to Mexico
Running 'round to keep every door closed
light creeps through the keyhole
Sitcoms and news and cigars and booze
fuck it, I'm going to Mexico
Chinese takeout, three days in a row
Li Ma doesn't even work there anymore
Styrofoam and soy and dim sum and koi
fuck it, I'm going to Mexico
Same conversation, four hundreth time
the more they talk, the less I listen
phobias and shame and repression and blame
fuck it, I'm going to Mexico
Four things left from my room back home
survived countless trashcans and gasoline
letters and veil and pesos and shale
fuck it, I'm taking my dog down to Mexico
One Of These Nights
One of these nights
I'm going to knock on your window
even if no one else is home
you'll giggle in your pajamas
while I tell you to "get dressed, let's go"
you'll be half-hearted hesitant
just for a second though
before you toss on some jeans
and run a brush through your hair
You'll slide it to ride shotgun
and ask "so where are we going?"
I'll just smile and head south
avoiding highways like we were on the lam
getting warmer the farther we go
top down, stars out, chance of rain
caring less the faster we drive
no responsibilities or concerns
the only souls we're saving are our own
We'll pass a tattoo shop at 3AM
an exchanged glance, an illegal u-turn
you'll get a butterfly on your shoulder
I'll get "Tragedia Hermoso" across my back
we'll make "Dude Sweet" jokes
the rest of the way down
and snicker at the names of the towns we pass
Red Lick, Hardwood and Kleinpeter
like we were fourteen years old
We'll pick our aliases before we get into town
you can be Veronica Lucretia, socialite from Rome
I'll be Roscoe Steele, bronc rider from Waco
ridiculously bad accents and even worse lies
we'll buy you a sequined black cocktail dress
with slightly-more-than-appropriate cleavage
I'll wear a Stetson and ostrich skin boots
and walk pigeon-toed and bow-legged
we'll count how many people point and stare
Everything and nothing has changed in a year
the Lions Den is gone but Irma's still here
Mudbone's still driving his carriage
and the angel still stands in Jackson Square
that record shop is back open on Decatur
we can roll the bones at Harrah's
as you kiss the dice for luck
we'll either go home rich or go home broke
but no regrets and no promises to break
I'm going to knock on your window
even if no one else is home
you'll giggle in your pajamas
while I tell you to "get dressed, let's go"
you'll be half-hearted hesitant
just for a second though
before you toss on some jeans
and run a brush through your hair
You'll slide it to ride shotgun
and ask "so where are we going?"
I'll just smile and head south
avoiding highways like we were on the lam
getting warmer the farther we go
top down, stars out, chance of rain
caring less the faster we drive
no responsibilities or concerns
the only souls we're saving are our own
We'll pass a tattoo shop at 3AM
an exchanged glance, an illegal u-turn
you'll get a butterfly on your shoulder
I'll get "Tragedia Hermoso" across my back
we'll make "Dude Sweet" jokes
the rest of the way down
and snicker at the names of the towns we pass
Red Lick, Hardwood and Kleinpeter
like we were fourteen years old
We'll pick our aliases before we get into town
you can be Veronica Lucretia, socialite from Rome
I'll be Roscoe Steele, bronc rider from Waco
ridiculously bad accents and even worse lies
we'll buy you a sequined black cocktail dress
with slightly-more-than-appropriate cleavage
I'll wear a Stetson and ostrich skin boots
and walk pigeon-toed and bow-legged
we'll count how many people point and stare
Everything and nothing has changed in a year
the Lions Den is gone but Irma's still here
Mudbone's still driving his carriage
and the angel still stands in Jackson Square
that record shop is back open on Decatur
we can roll the bones at Harrah's
as you kiss the dice for luck
we'll either go home rich or go home broke
but no regrets and no promises to break
The Sins of My Fathers
You probably couldn't tell just by looking at me, but I'm the last in a long line of semi-harmless rogues and semi-charmless outlaws.
My great-great grandfather spent some time in jail for selling phony deeds to government land to Irish immigrants fresh off the boat. An "involuntary guest of the federal government" as the colloquialism went in my family. Rumor has it that was the least of his crimes. He had a legendary reputation as a unrepentant swindler and a world-class avoider of all physical labor.
My great-grandfather was the product of an ephemeral relationship with the "touched" daughter of an Baltimore Lutheran minister. Given the unsuitability of his parents, he was sent off to live with a distant childless aunt in Cheyenne, Wyoming. He soon overcame the distinct disadvantages of the absence of any bad influences by becoming something of a scalawag in his own right. He made a decent living collecting the rewards from "lost" horses and livestock as well as working short stints as a dentist/doctor/undertaker (slightly unlicensed, of course).
He was shot dead as he was climbing out of someone else's bedroom window.
But not before he could leave his seed in the belly of a widowed Denver schoolteacher.
She raised my grandfather on her own. She'd had seven children who were mostly grown by the time he was born. They grew up to be fine upstanding citizens - lawyers, bankers and college professors. But my grandfather missed out on that gene and was cursed with the wayward blood of his father. Though he became very educated, it seemed to just make him a more effective crook. "Embezzlement" is probably too strong of a word, but he definitely leaned toward crime of a more white-collar variety. He was arrested (and acquitted) four times for "accounting errors" at a steel mill, coal & gold mines and a Methodist church where he served as a deacon. As the legend goes, the witnesses just liked him too much to testify against him.
It would have been a pretty safe bet that my father would have broke the chain of lawlessness, but it wasn't meant to be. He grew up straight as an arrow in Eisenhower's America, but soon regressed back into the shadowy crevasse between illegal and unethical. "It's just pot" soon became "I just need something to take the edge off" which in turn descended into search warrants and Ethics Review Boards.
Me? I've managed to stay out of jail and outside the crosshairs of wronged husbands. But not by much. And I couldn't tell you how long the streak will last. I don't presume to know when the pirate blood pumping through my veins will come to a boil.
Gentleman or charlatan.
Faithful or adulterous.
Honest or corrupt.
Pious or immoral.
It's still too soon to know for sure.
My great-great grandfather spent some time in jail for selling phony deeds to government land to Irish immigrants fresh off the boat. An "involuntary guest of the federal government" as the colloquialism went in my family. Rumor has it that was the least of his crimes. He had a legendary reputation as a unrepentant swindler and a world-class avoider of all physical labor.
My great-grandfather was the product of an ephemeral relationship with the "touched" daughter of an Baltimore Lutheran minister. Given the unsuitability of his parents, he was sent off to live with a distant childless aunt in Cheyenne, Wyoming. He soon overcame the distinct disadvantages of the absence of any bad influences by becoming something of a scalawag in his own right. He made a decent living collecting the rewards from "lost" horses and livestock as well as working short stints as a dentist/doctor/undertaker (slightly unlicensed, of course).
He was shot dead as he was climbing out of someone else's bedroom window.
But not before he could leave his seed in the belly of a widowed Denver schoolteacher.
She raised my grandfather on her own. She'd had seven children who were mostly grown by the time he was born. They grew up to be fine upstanding citizens - lawyers, bankers and college professors. But my grandfather missed out on that gene and was cursed with the wayward blood of his father. Though he became very educated, it seemed to just make him a more effective crook. "Embezzlement" is probably too strong of a word, but he definitely leaned toward crime of a more white-collar variety. He was arrested (and acquitted) four times for "accounting errors" at a steel mill, coal & gold mines and a Methodist church where he served as a deacon. As the legend goes, the witnesses just liked him too much to testify against him.
It would have been a pretty safe bet that my father would have broke the chain of lawlessness, but it wasn't meant to be. He grew up straight as an arrow in Eisenhower's America, but soon regressed back into the shadowy crevasse between illegal and unethical. "It's just pot" soon became "I just need something to take the edge off" which in turn descended into search warrants and Ethics Review Boards.
Me? I've managed to stay out of jail and outside the crosshairs of wronged husbands. But not by much. And I couldn't tell you how long the streak will last. I don't presume to know when the pirate blood pumping through my veins will come to a boil.
Gentleman or charlatan.
Faithful or adulterous.
Honest or corrupt.
Pious or immoral.
It's still too soon to know for sure.
Time Trials
Sunday Night:
1 large veggie pizza with pineapple from Dominos - $13.59 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 46 minutes
1 Asian or Hispanic masseuse under the age of 25 - $235.00 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 41 minutes
Tuesday Night:
1 order of General Tsao's chicken & one egg roll - $9.88 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 53 minutes
1 recently divorced redheaded ex-girlfriend - no charge
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 36 minutes
Wednesday Night
Half rack of St Louis ribs and 6 hot wings - $17.45 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 64 minutes
One mid-40's stranger (self-described MILF) from Craigslist - 2 Bass Ales
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 53 minutes
Tonight
1 large Reuben with horseradish and coleslaw - $13.26 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 26 minutes
2 female escorts, one older & one younger, both athletic - $775.00 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 31 minutes & counting
1 large veggie pizza with pineapple from Dominos - $13.59 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 46 minutes
1 Asian or Hispanic masseuse under the age of 25 - $235.00 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 41 minutes
Tuesday Night:
1 order of General Tsao's chicken & one egg roll - $9.88 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 53 minutes
1 recently divorced redheaded ex-girlfriend - no charge
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 36 minutes
Wednesday Night
Half rack of St Louis ribs and 6 hot wings - $17.45 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 64 minutes
One mid-40's stranger (self-described MILF) from Craigslist - 2 Bass Ales
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 53 minutes
Tonight
1 large Reuben with horseradish and coleslaw - $13.26 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 26 minutes
2 female escorts, one older & one younger, both athletic - $775.00 plus tip
Time from initial call til knock on my door - 31 minutes & counting
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