Thursday, October 2, 2014

poem of the day 10.02.14


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.


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