poem of the day 10.02.14

skanks

my wife says

all the women

that i catch you looking at are skanks

that’s not true, i tell her

yes it is

they all wear short skirts and halter tops

they all have dyed hair and take ass-selfies

what’s an ass-selfie? i ask

don’t play dumb with me, she says

that skank at the grocery store

has her own son’s name misspelled on her arm

people spell things differently these days

it’s the only mark of individuality we have

admit it, you love skanks

you love skinny, knobby kneed women

with black and blue marks in telling places

big hoop earrings, fake eyelashes

and tattoos that say things like, fuck love, love hate

i’ve always been a sucker for a good line, i say

look, if i weren’t with you

i’d like any woman who talked to me

fat, skinny, black, white, brown, tattooed or not

i crave attention, i say

from skanks, my wife says

then she shakes her head

it’s weird, she says

i’m not a skank

maybe you are to someone else, i say

maybe you define skank

to some random dude on your evening train

but i don’t dress like that

i don’t wear those earring

i don’t have those kinds of tattoos

you dye your hair, i say

not electric blue or fire engine red!

but you have black and blue marks

in some telling places, i say

and sometimes you misspell words

don’t try to get cute with me, she says

i think this says something about your sex drive

that i still have one

at forty?

just admit that you love skanks, my wife says

if it’ll make you happy, dear, i say

then i love skanks

i love them all the way

from their dark hair roots

down to their torn thongs

and hot pink stilettos

i knew it! she says

i goddamned knew it.