my first dance
we always said
do you want to go with me
back in those days
it meant to date
going steady
going with each other
carrie and i were
at the seventh grade dance
i was probably
forty pounds overweight
she was overweight
but not as bad as me
we got along in class
i made her laugh
she liked the same music as i did
that was enough back then
it’s probably still enough now
marriages are built on less
carrie asked me to dance
maybe i asked her to dance
i don’t think so
because i was a chicken-shit
when it came to women in those days
i’m still a chicken-shit
when it comes to women
we danced
i held her sides
i could feel carrie’s fat
she had her arms around my shoulders
the one place where
i could hide from my girth
but i knew my stomach
was pressed tightly against her
over the pa system was a song
that we both liked
it wasn’t our favorite band
but i was all right
there was something about the mood
the lighting, maybe
being that close to a girl
who wasn’t turned off by me
the smell of her sweat and perfume
i asked her to go with me
she said yes
my first dance and my first girlfriend
in the same night
when we looked up, joey rizzuto
was standing next to us
he was smirking at me
he told me way to go and he slapped me
on the back
i knew he didn’t mean it
we went back to dancing
while joey went over to tell the guys
about my going steady
there was a small round of laughter
that carrie and i heard
we finished dancing
at school the next monday
i didn’t make her laugh
we didn’t talk about our favorite band
her friend, teresa, told me two days later
that carrie wanted to break up
when joey rizzuto asked me what happened
i told him
he slapped me on the back again
he looked genuinely sympathetic
by lunch the news
had made the rounds
i was back on the block
and not a girl or a dance would care
for another seven years
and by the three o’clock bell
that day
everyone at that school
cared about something else.
Winedrunk is on haitus until April 12th
Friday, April 2, 2010
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6 comments:
Enjoy your holiday.
Don't forget to put an umbrella in your suitcase.
stephanie
Lots of raw honesty, here... Brought me back to my own chicken-shit days at the roller rink.
Another good one, sir...
You made me read your poem. That's an example of good writing... when a piece of work makes you do things against your will. I liked it a lot. Keep up the good work!
http://mysocalledfeudallife.blogspot.com/
That really was some lousy advice I gave you...
Sorry, they predicted rain but the weather has been splendid.
Well better this than the other way around, right? I hope you had a good time.
stephanie
stephanie...i was expecting the worst, but it was beautiful all week, save a small hail shower on sunday. so much to see...the literary sites alone made my feet bleed from walking so much. only sad thing...too much american pop culture permeates paris. saw Jennifer Aniston's face more than i cared to.
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