Wednesday, March 27, 2013

poem of the day 03.27.13

brigitte the drunk

here you are again
standing outside of the pub
sucking on a cigarette

oh, how you make me hate the light

and brigitte
before you even get started
i want you to try and remember that we’ve met
at least half a dozen times

so, no, i don’t want to shake your hand again
go through the process of telling you that i’m not a tourist

that i live two blocks away from you
the same as i did three introductions ago

and i don’t want to hear about your dog
or how nursing has driven you to drink

how great this fucking bar is on a saturday night
because no bar is great on a saturday night

but here you come
right from your outside smoke over to my seat at the bar
smelling like menthol and cheap perfume

your smile smeared from these desperate hours

yes, brigitte, it’s really cute that my wife and i
both have flannel shirts on

only we didn’t plan it

but you can go on thinking what you want, my dear
go ahead and think we’re the cutest couple that you’ve ever met

whatever gets us through this cleanly

beside it seems like you got bigger fish to fry

i mean you look pale, brigitte,
somewhat sickly, like you’ve lost a little bit of weight

your handshake is a tad bit clammy, too

i hope you’re not drinking with a cold
because i always do that and they tend to linger on for weeks

i guess i’ll just have to stay away from you in the grocery store tomorrow
when we’re both bleary-eyed and looking for something solid
to quell the hangover

avoid making eye contact in the frozen food aisle

is it me or my wife whom you do this little dance for?

i mean you always start with me but you tend to linger on her

you hold her hand for so long, it makes me jealous
because, brigitte, it’s so obvious that you’re smitten

too bad you’re not the type who’s intriguing or tantalizing

i mean we could all have a good night if you were
and then you wouldn’t have to keep introducing yourself

but instead you’ll make your way down  the bar
to talk about your new friends to that lipstick abomination
that you’re always tethered to in this place

the one you mercifully never introduce us to

you’ll look over at us and lift your pint glass
my wife and i will do the same

i’ll say, until next time, sweet princess
as we work our way toward becoming strangers again

and in a few moments the bartender will come over
with a couple of shot glasses
good for two free drinks

on you, of course, brigitte

like always
on you.                                                

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