In her last moment as a waitress and in her first moment before becoming someone who takes phone messages during night shift for an answering service, she thought of me, the one she always called dildo. I thought her hair was teased up and cute and I forgave. She was good on the State basketball team, and I decided I liked thin girls. It is time to dream of you, my love. We even cornered each other out by the traffic light. I even showed you family pictures, you even let me refill my coffee gratis. Bombard with kisses my pillows.
Presentation 1760, The Acts of a Brash Rose
October 2000 | back-issues, poetry, William B. Hunt | 0 comments