January 2005 / Volume VI / Issue I
Michael Internicola

MY SATURDAY

I walk home drunk
a black guy is getting head off some blonde in
the front seat of a car
a man on a bike gives me the peace symbol
amy spits her gum in my chest hair
i cut it out with a razor
the baby in her stomach doesnít have a name yet
sheís changed her hair color at least
6 times in the last two months.

tonto got a job recruiting for an escort service
the lone ranger won a buck fitty on a tennessee hail mary
slickster tore his acl and is snorting yea seven days a week
big papa might have to come over and clean things up.

i see her and her mother getting dressed slowly
probably share a cigarette of two before the wedding
i see her breathing nervous in a tight move dress
or maybe it's a black one like before.

i sit here
itís not a fair fight
i sit here against the marble table goiní on the 800th day in a row
a lonely young cow polk with no reason to go for the record.
the best seller isnít in me
all the words are alone
my love gave me rat poison, a gun, five feet of rope, 76 sleeping pills and
her pussy for breakfast
my love gave me saving grace
my love is 22 again
twenty two again
her lips taste like burnt coffee and she smells like cheese
this love tells me iím nothing
she answers the phone during sex
and makes fun of my hair, my books, my height, my zits, my superstitions
she encourages me to smoke more, drink more, maybe take up a new drug
she says
stop writing she tells me

she wants to be a drag racer
she kills animals for fur
she likes yanni and makes fun of kids in wheelchairs
she thinks soul is mexican beer.

this love i got is punishment for all the hearts i demolished
and i see her and her mother in the limo
with the pearls and champagne high
taking care of themselves again
and smiling and laughing and being happy for bobby in his bow tie
while i sit here straight faced with a major shit coming on

nine hours and thirty one minutes away
from thinking god dammit that could
have been me.
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