Poem of the Day 12.18.08

affair

i remember the two
of us
used to sit in that sports bar
in downtown pittsburgh
and listen to those
two sexy suburban women
complain about their husbands,
and how much they were
ignored at home.

they were classmates
of yours, not too much older
than you or i,
but victims of the circumstance
of long-term faded lust.
you were always
hot for the blonde,
weren’t you?
she was the innocent one
who still believed in her husband’s
love.
and i liked
the brunette,
the one ready to jump ship.

things almost happened
with mine too.
you set it up to take place
after her birthday party,
but when we got there
the husband was surprisingly home,
in town after
being on the road
for two weeks,
hocking computer equipment
or some shit like that.

he was a big
motherfucker,
if i remember correctly.
an ex-jock,
some all-county linebacker
that reveled in his glory days.
he had a neck the size
of texas,
and two arms that could
of killed me
with a squeeze.

but he was pleasant
enough that night,
and generous with his
bottles of beer,
and that decanter
of crown
that he had placed
on the mantle
next to a large gold-framed
photo of their wedding.

i remember looking
at it as we drank.
that photo of a happily married
couple,
young,
and not yet aware of how
crooked life could get for them.
how lonely the nights at
home would be,
the temptation that it could lead to,
or how barren an empty road
could get when you tried
to make an honest buck.

and i’m glad i saw that
photo too,
because maybe it saved
an honest couple
a lot of misery in this world.
i know it probably saved me
a lot of hurt.
if nothing else it at least
got you and i out of that scene
and going back to bars
where we could meet women
without so much baggage,
or restless time on their hands.