Sunday, June 26, 2011

sorry, guy--gotta fly.

today was my last time on campus
that bullshit school where everyone turned their head at what you did
and i went looking for you.

i wanted to see the eyes of an unhappy man
and i wanted to ask how miserable life was
ever since you had thrown it all away
pissed your marriage down the drain
just for a salacious shot with a twisted 20-year-old girl
too stupid to know better
and too young to care.

i wanted to put on a shit-eating grin
and ask you how the divorce was going
if you were enjoying the crappy motel where i assume (and hope) you’re living
what machines at the gym you find to be
the most effective spots to pick up teenage girls
and what poems you recite to them most often
which ones make them flutter their eyes the most and fill their cheeks with red.

i wanted to find out what brought you to be this person
if you were always an empty void or if this was a new thing
did critical theory do this to you? too much derrida and not enough decency?
was it misguided subversion of american puritanism?
some big piece of performance art
conceived behind the curtains and the bedsheets?
and i wanted to underline everything you lost
remind you of the pain you caused me and so many others
point out that the two of you are monsters and deserve each other
and leave you withered and wired and wrinkled.

i wanted to break your nose
and welt your wandering eyes
call you out as the coward you are
and bruise rosy, pockmarked cheeks
leave you in a puddle of your own sick and tears
walk away laughing as you clutched a broken hip and wept for medicare.

“but i'm better than that,” i told myself. “that’s what they would do.”
so i packed my bag
put on my sunglasses
whistled “ramble on”
walked to my car
and drove away.

but not before pressing my ass up against your office door
and farting on your doorknob.
so you might wanna wear gloves on monday
because it felt steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeenky
and now you'll have particles of shit all over your hands
to match everything that comes out of your mouth.

enjoy the last third of your life.
i'm just getting started on my act two
and i can’t wait to see
how much better things get
the further i am away from the two of you.

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