Tuesday, July 20, 2010

"Parade" (Inspired by the Scene in He's Just Not That Into You where the wife screams "You lying sack of Shit.")


Noisy, dirty and stifling, that place.
Teefs, coke heads and mad men
abound. Thoughtless, almost cruel
drivers. Packed with people
who display no teet or gold teet;
laugh at the sun’s spearing rays
and me. They all saw,

How I couldn’t hide from the glare
of the kiss, the matching pairs
of soft brown eyes.

When I went home, it was dark,
late evening. I hadn’t seen the sun set;
I had walked to a park and tried to run away,
only to realize the track was a circle – no matter
what I did, I kept seeing start/end…start/end.

I crawled into my bed and read last month’s letter:
Look into my heart,
Look into my heart,
Look into my heart!
You know how I feel about you, don’t you?
For God’s sake, stop raining on my parade!

No rain tonight, I mused, burrowing
into starched sheets.