poem of the day 02.04.14

the girl in the parking lot

i still think about her

from time to time

that chance

that “what if” girl

who pulled up right next to me

in that strip mall parking lot

while i was waiting for my girlfriend

to finish work at the dollar store

so that she could come out smelling like potpourri

so that my car could smell like potpourri

so that we could go back to her parents

and fight or secretly fuck in her bedroom

the scent of potpourri still choking me hours later

on the ride home

i still think about the girl in the parking lot

twenty years removed

sometimes she’s brunette

sometimes she’s a fiery redhead

oh, the way she just pulled right into that spot

cigarette in her mouth and another behind her ear

hair tussled like she’d just woken up

while i sat there on the hood of my car

my parent’s car, really

waiting for the dollar store lights to dim

dreading the scent of potpourri

there’s something about the way she leaned

out of her window that i’ll never forget

the way she said, gotta light?

and i had one if i never had anything else in this life

then watching her smoke just sitting there

the two of us in some unreal suburban strip mall

on a warm july night

with the dollar store lights still on

and my girlfriend running around fixing shelves

how she said, so, what do you do around here for fun?

how instead of showing her i shrugged and said, don’t know

because i had a girlfriend

because of july nights and the choking scent of potpourri

because i didn’t know what i wanted in this life

because i no longer had any conception of fun

i shrugged and said, don’t know

like a goddamned fool

continued to sit there on the hood of my car

my parent’s car

while she smoked her cigarette to a nub

before lighting the new one off of it

saying, that’s cool

before she started up her engine

saying, you take care now

as if she’d just said, get in

forget the girlfriend

forget the scent of potpourri

forget trying to find the fun in a humid night

and just come along

that girl in the parking lot

in the confusing summer of 1994

how i watched her taillights slide away from me

out onto  route 19 and then moving further and further

like the best thing in my life was going for a ride

and then the scent of potpourri and cigarette in the thick air

as i turned around to see my girlfriend

standing by the passenger side door

who smirked and said to me

you better not be smoking again.