I can't lie
Sometimes I will stay over because I know at some point you'll wake up
Then we'll have early morning, I've still got eye crust, no kissing because our collective halitosis would peel paint- sex
Then you go to work
And I will get up early with you and get a head start on my day
Since this you, is often no particular person,
this sexy alarm clock plan has failed before
"What do you mean you don't have a job?"
"it's Saturday, we can stay in and cuddle"
or even worse
"Sleep as late as you like, I'll leave the spare key by the bed, you can leave it under the mat when you leave."
That last one is the sweetest gesture,
except I don't want to sleep in
I don't want to spend three or four extra hours simmering in our sweat-from-the-night-before-and-morning
Lazing about,
looking at your book collection,
bonding with your cats,
burying my face into your sheets and breathing in deep the worn in smell of
your skin and faintly perfumed pomade
traces on your pillow
I am lucky enough to catch the morning bus rush
By the third stop, I am sandwiched between a child off to school and a fast talking Caribbean woman.
A few seats down will be the woman with a worn prayer book,
constantly reminding herself,
God loves me, he puts me through pain so I will be rewarded in heaven.
The morning rush keeps me occupied with a steady stream of people to analyze and fictionize their lives
I will be so consumed with the made up details of their lives that I won't have time to wonder if when you said, "I'll talk to you soon," when you left
that it mean't,
"I'll call you tomorrow" or next week
It will keep me from wondering
when you said, "Let's just see where it goes"
if you meant
lets actually find out,
or if you meant I'm trying to be nice, but nothings going to happen.
When I get to leave in the morning
I do get more time to write my little stories and read my little books,
gulp down gallons of weak bodega co0ffee and plot out who to call next
Because after a night with you,
laying alone hurts.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Subway Stranglers
Can't it ever just be a conversation between strangers?
Why do you always have to ask me for my name, age and telephone number?
Why do you assume I have any other interest in this situation,
than just making a passing remark.
You are always more bold in the subway?
Why is that?
Is it because we are in the under world? Under ground? In a looking glass, down the rabbit hole situation?
But we're not.
We are still part of the real world.
So this means,
you act like this all the time
That you assume any girl who gives you the slightest provocation is also interested in what you've got in your jeans.
I bet you try to pick up women on the street who talk about Greenpeace or give out flyers on Jehovah.
I wonder why that is.
It would be easy to chalk it up to machismo chauvinism,
but I wonder
could you actually be a decent human being
Whose behaviors actually stem from
being ignored by your mother
who favored
your brother, sister, boyfriend, smoke, drink or drug
over you
or maybe
You are just cripplingly shy
and when a girl gives you a chance to speak
you feel like you've gotta give it everything you've got
because you couldn't ever approach her
Maybe it was because you are actually into me.
Maybe you think I am really pretty and you found what I said witty.
You know that this might be the only chance you'll ever see a girl like me
and you need to seize this moment before i slip out of your fingers
I know this is not the case
because
I looked like hell
In a baggy sweater, pack muled with backpack in tow, wet from the down pour outside
with eye crust and bad posture and halitosis to boot
I am not the picture of loveliness
And what I said was not so0mething funny or smart
It was an unremarkable remark about bad weather and bad moods
So what is the deal?
Why do you feel the need to take this somewhere it was never headed?
Can't you just nod and let me get on my train?
Why do you feel the need to make me feel like a jerk
for trying to turn you down as nicely as possible
for trying to save some face
for trying to0 be friendly with a stranger
Why do I even bother opening my mouth to you?
Shouldn't I know better now?
Shouldn't I know the subway is no place to talk to strangers?
Why do you always have to ask me for my name, age and telephone number?
Why do you assume I have any other interest in this situation,
than just making a passing remark.
You are always more bold in the subway?
Why is that?
Is it because we are in the under world? Under ground? In a looking glass, down the rabbit hole situation?
But we're not.
We are still part of the real world.
So this means,
you act like this all the time
That you assume any girl who gives you the slightest provocation is also interested in what you've got in your jeans.
I bet you try to pick up women on the street who talk about Greenpeace or give out flyers on Jehovah.
I wonder why that is.
It would be easy to chalk it up to machismo chauvinism,
but I wonder
could you actually be a decent human being
Whose behaviors actually stem from
being ignored by your mother
who favored
your brother, sister, boyfriend, smoke, drink or drug
over you
or maybe
You are just cripplingly shy
and when a girl gives you a chance to speak
you feel like you've gotta give it everything you've got
because you couldn't ever approach her
Maybe it was because you are actually into me.
Maybe you think I am really pretty and you found what I said witty.
You know that this might be the only chance you'll ever see a girl like me
and you need to seize this moment before i slip out of your fingers
I know this is not the case
because
I looked like hell
In a baggy sweater, pack muled with backpack in tow, wet from the down pour outside
with eye crust and bad posture and halitosis to boot
I am not the picture of loveliness
And what I said was not so0mething funny or smart
It was an unremarkable remark about bad weather and bad moods
So what is the deal?
Why do you feel the need to take this somewhere it was never headed?
Can't you just nod and let me get on my train?
Why do you feel the need to make me feel like a jerk
for trying to turn you down as nicely as possible
for trying to save some face
for trying to0 be friendly with a stranger
Why do I even bother opening my mouth to you?
Shouldn't I know better now?
Shouldn't I know the subway is no place to talk to strangers?
Jealousy
I am jealous
of girls with fair leg hair
of women who know how to embrace their curves
of girls with high metabolism
of girls with non-italian mothers
of girls who can express and control their sexuality
of girls who can walk in heels
of girls who know just how much cleavage to show
of girls who find sisterhood in sorority
of girls who were always told they could do everything
of girls who have consistency
of girls who have the right amount of meat on their bones
of girls who have portion control
of girls who can just generally have control over anything
of girls who can wear boyfriend cut jeans
of girls who have enough femininity to not be called a dyke for having short cropped hair
of girls who understand how to use lip liner
of girls who never get sweaty running to the subway
of girls with gal pals
of girls who can be smart without being a bitch about it
of girls who can drive stick
of girls not afraid to ride a skateboards
of girls without baskets on the front of their bikes
of girls who dare to be mothers
of girls who dare to do anything they have been told they can't
of girls who get mastectomies and don't get reconstructive surgery
of girls who don't give a shit about againt
of girls who dance to attract a mate
of girls who know how to get a second date
of girls who've never been raped
of girls whose mother's don't call everyday asking for grandchildren
of girls without mothers who came out alright
of girls who kill their lovers after one fight too many
I am jealous of girls who have found a way to get off without using technology.
of girls with fair leg hair
of women who know how to embrace their curves
of girls with high metabolism
of girls with non-italian mothers
of girls who can express and control their sexuality
of girls who can walk in heels
of girls who know just how much cleavage to show
of girls who find sisterhood in sorority
of girls who were always told they could do everything
of girls who have consistency
of girls who have the right amount of meat on their bones
of girls who have portion control
of girls who can just generally have control over anything
of girls who can wear boyfriend cut jeans
of girls who have enough femininity to not be called a dyke for having short cropped hair
of girls who understand how to use lip liner
of girls who never get sweaty running to the subway
of girls with gal pals
of girls who can be smart without being a bitch about it
of girls who can drive stick
of girls not afraid to ride a skateboards
of girls without baskets on the front of their bikes
of girls who dare to be mothers
of girls who dare to do anything they have been told they can't
of girls who get mastectomies and don't get reconstructive surgery
of girls who don't give a shit about againt
of girls who dance to attract a mate
of girls who know how to get a second date
of girls who've never been raped
of girls whose mother's don't call everyday asking for grandchildren
of girls without mothers who came out alright
of girls who kill their lovers after one fight too many
I am jealous of girls who have found a way to get off without using technology.
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