Matchmaker
Why don't you walk in at about 1 a.m?
Make me be patient
as if you had just fucked your malnourished girlfriend
and decided to stop in for whatever is on tap.
I'll sip my wine, noticing you
wishing I hadn't,
covering up my one night stands like nip slips
or bruises.
You won't notice me, of course
and I'll pretend you're not there
as some Ringo Starr lookalike gropes my thigh.
Our first date
will make me wish I hadn't been one of those girls
who grew up equating Disney princesses
to my future self
(I was Belle: bookish brunette with green eyes)
but I'd never work a tiara
and I always end up passing out on my shawl
two hours before the ball ends.
That teapot should have never suggested an open bar.
You'll laugh at that
and I'll wish I hadn't noticed your smile
or that there is no malnourished girlfriend.
"anorexics never have nice tits anyway" you'll say
and I'll pretend I'm not completely swelling
like the hot air balloon in the guidance counselor's office.
1 comment:
I stumbled onto your blog. I don't generally comment on things I run across but I like your writing. The profanity is sometimes unnecessary.
I wish you well.
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