This part begins when I leave
the car in park and you, prone
to lead with your chin, are ready
to take it, the upper hand,
a towel, the ice bucket,
the losing gasp, my surprise
going away party. It is never
early enough in the morning,
not for us. A downward cast,
you thought we might duck out
quietly, fall off the turnip truck
together again, jump up and down
on the bed like old times. I turn out
to be the grudge, an accountant
who has kept track of pass-through
losses. You make us a Bloody Mary.
Jesus. I told you not to count on me.
I keep looking at my watch.
This part ends with acetaminophen.
I say the pickle looks a little sick.
The pause between us grows
into a never mind. You are no good
with words, filled like a birthday wish
to understand. What I’m trying to tell you
is how they try to harvest me like fruit.
Just because I am abundant. How hard
they want, how starved they are.
I keep looking over my shoulder.
Yes, I left it there on the desk
like a space capsule filled with risk.
I hotwired the turnip truck
so I stick to the abridged
version. It ends with my surprise
going away party
and a downward cast.
I left the motor idling,
made you a Bloody Mary
even though the pickle
looked a little sick.
The pause between us
grew into a never mind.
When I gave you the gift
of discovery, you were let in
on what happens
when the undertow pulls hard
and suddenly you can’t
A little something. I kissed
your bruise. To remember me by.
Firefly squid lined the shore,
a smattering of neon blue
lapping between two darknesses.
It was never early enough
in the morning, not for us.
I explained how necessary it was
for you to stay and how careful
you needed to be
about who you talked to.
How hungry they were,
how hard they wanted it.
They tried to take it all,
my joy, like harvesters of fruit
from the sea. Just because
I was abundant.
Instead they will find
what I left behind
on my desk,
a time capsule
filled with risk.
What the Cat Drug In
Oh, it was rough alright. I've shown up to tell you
the story but first you lay it on me, your surprise
going away party. Really? Really. Who showed up,
who ducked out early, who fell off the turnip truck
together. We take the comfort found in stale beer
smell, the nostalgia of ashtrays overflowing.
You hand me a Bloody Mary. Strong, but the pickle
looks a little sick. They’re all sluts. Agreed.
The pause between us grows into a never mind.
I suffice to say it’s no big deal, just a job.
There will always be another. No, you shut up.
I give you an abridged version, how they tried
to take it outta me. When I saw how hard
they wanted all of my joy I gave ‘em piss instead,
left it on the desk, a time capsule filled with risk.
Last edited by Wilcken
on Tue May 29, 2012 11:37 am, edited 9 times in total.