June 2008 / Volume Eight / Issue Two
Michael D. Grover
I Always Was A Sucker For A Tragedy

She called me from West Philly
To say she had come home from the bar
She was puking in the toilet
And she fell down on the bathroom floor
She could not get up
I thought about asking her
How she had the phone
But I guessed it might have been on her

So I rushed out to save my damsel in distress
I took a cab from Center City
I buzzed her apartment
With her all alone laying on the bathroom floor
Somebody buzzed me in
At that point I knew I was a sucker

I walked up the stairs
To find her perfectly positioned
Laying on the bathroom floor
I asked her who buzzed me in
She talked like a drunk idiot
"What are you talking about?"
I didn't even ask
I picked her up
And took her in her room
Put her in her bed
She gave a seductive sigh

At that point I walked out into
The cold ghetto night
Walked back to Center City
And to my apartment
Where she had left a message
Saying "Fuck you!"
Or something.
What can I say
I always was a sucker for a tragedy