ten minutes before this
I found myself
slurring compliments
towards
a beautiful
beautiful blonde woman
with skin like a good bar of soap.
she was shaped like I had planned it.
she was wonderfully full breasted.
and was shy about it.

I carefully held her elbow
with my thumb and middle fingers
when I listened.
Her hip with the space between my hand
when I spoke.

I said the right thing
enough times in a row
for her to give me her
phone number.

I saved it under her last name
(I already had two Sarah's)
and told her I wasn't going to wait
the traditional time frame
of girl and boy.

she smiled

I in fact made love to her
for the three days to follow.

always in her bed

she had a roommate
whom I was more interested in.
I think.
I never found out.

I didn't have a place to stay at the time,
and had a habit of finding one.

I hit send on my phone
to remind me to call her
as she left.
at this point
the only thing
I could see
was that
I should not be in public.

an old friend of mine
was behind the bar.

not
because he was working
but
because he was serving us.

the bar tender had left
for a cigarette

the bar itself
kept me standing on
whiskey reflux one eyed vision

drunk again.
but this time it's bad.
I can't see.

the only thing I can see
is that
I should not be in public.

"hello."
(the voice of a woman)

"hello."

I probably had
told three jokes poorly
and we were walking out the door.

past a dark warm garage
that smelled like blow jobs
and standing sex from behind.

up a hill.
holding hands.

(I have yet to look at this woman)

all I know is that
I am with a woman.
and that was exactly
where we all wanted to be.

now naked
cold grass
dark building
and giggles

she has my pants
at my ankles
(her body is decent)
my shirt above my head

straddling me
she
tosses her black hair
in slow motion picture fashion

she speaks softly-

"I think someone is coming."
I look left

I look back to her
"yes. someone is coming."

FLASHLIGHT
flashlight twice down
my leftover body

police officer silence

"hello, sir."
I say.

"evening."
with even more flashlight.

"well,
you got me.
what ever you have to do
I understand."

he flashes the light on the girl
(she is not attractive)

"You ok?"

"yes- it's completely consensual."
holding her little breasts

and with that
the officer
turns his flashlight off
says "Sorry"
turns around
and
leaves.

5am mist rising
from our mouths
as we rolled
on top of one another
laughing at luck and politics.

I sat comfortably
in a wooden chair
at a wooden table.

the entire set wasn't worth
a hundred dollars,
but it had to be thirty years old
and appeared in the shape
it first arrived.

I was at my aunt's house.
she and her husband
were aging quite rapidly
and had a sense of humor about it.
my aunt's husband,
"Father,"
as she called him,
lived in his bedroom
in a pair of sweatpants
until a visitor appeared.
this, at least once a day.

the table was soft.
I pressed it
and stood from my seat.

I reach to touch the refrigerator.
and like an alarm my aunt turns,
"what are you looking for?

I got
milk
I got
orange juice
iced tea
Pepsi
there's
orange
and cream soda
in the garage."

with out fail
she would rattle off
this staple list of beverages
that have been in her home
for as long as I could hear.

I poured myself an orange juice
and the cat dragged in Floyd.

Floyd stood about 5 foot 8
and he weighed a round
215.
he had white hair
and was always red
in the face.
I am certain this was because
the man never stopped speaking.

though
Floyd is a good man.
he visits Father
a couple times a week
because Father
does not leave the house.

Floyd started in on me.
with his upstate accent piercing clean,
my aunt braced herself for embarrassment.

he told me
about how the weight
in his face and sides
was due to his chemotherapy.

he leaned against the sink
and entertained the full kitchen of four
with stories my aunt and Father
have heard several times prior.

Floyd laughed and joked about how
after chemo he would mow his lawn,
and
how he would take his wife shopping.

chemotherapy seemed to take
a different effect on Floyd than 99.9%
of the patients in the world.
it was actually quite impressive.

he then cut himself off
to remind himself about
how just today he had
his dog cremated.

"got er' in the back seat."
he says

"oh, dear."
my aunt says sincerely.
"how's Janey doin'?"
(his wife)

"she's better... now.
better now than
on Tuesdee'.
I'm just wonderin'
what to do with her.

I was thinking about
just puttin' her on the shelf
in the basement
and if Janey kicks it before I do,
I'll bury em' together."

we all chuckle.

"Hell, I've done it before."
we all laugh,
(I laugh the loudest.)

"I buried Spanks with David."
silence

everyone had forgotten,
he actually did bury their last dog
with his son who died in a car accident.

everyone had forgotten.