Tuesday, September 15, 2015

poem of the day 09.15.15


walks with me from class to hillman library
as snow turns to rain
i swear it takes too long to get here
and when it does i long for the winter
portia says she has two jobs
one waitressing one bartending
she knows the world about beer
porters and stout and lagers and pilsners
ipas and a swiss white chocolate beer
that sounds like hell
i tell her as long as it’s cold and frothy
but she doesn’t laugh
she stops me in all seriousness
we stand under my umbrella
says, have you ever had a flaming dr. pepper?
close red lipstick lip almost whispered in my ear
like she’d say, let’s just run away from all of this
it’s made with amaretto
i’ll make you one if you ever come down
the sharper edge on friendship avenue
aussie’s on liberty avenue
and i can’t tell her that i was in there
last saturday night
have those bars emblazoned in my mind
calvin and i amidst aging night owls
violet-white neon light
meeting steve to drive off to wherever
rustic shinny wood with a long bar
round wood tables and girls galore
but no portia
and at midnight on the lord’s day
i’m sitting drunk in anthony’s gentleman’s club
more half-naked women dry humping poles
for my hard-earned dollar
portia stops me again and lifts up her shirt a little
pierced belly button under my umbrella
she’s sunburned from a tanning salon
says, this hurts so fucking much
but like a good catholic boy
i make sure
not to look.

1 comment: