Party Talk
It’s Friday night
we’re at a party, and
you’re telling me about your test on Tuesday.
And my thoughts are running naked
through the house
like children after a bath
running from the towel.
Our friends are all chatting and dancing
and you’re telling me about your test on Tuesday.
And I’m getting married in the fireplace
to a girl that looks kind of like Scarlett Johanssen
and a lot like Kate Beckinsale.
The flames are a little Cathedral,
the embers are floating like bells and rice.
What was that? Ah yes, you’re test on Tuesday.
Our friends are still dancing,
and Scarlett JoBeckinsale and I are riding
in a coffee cup across the hardwood floor,
“Just married” scribbled across the top,
thimbles dragging behind us.
And now we’re riding up the backs of our friends
and now we’re flying in Michael’s hat to our honeymoon
on the ceiling fan.
Am I listening? Of course!
You have a test on Tuesday.
Our hotel room on the ceiling fan
is overlooking the dancing Riviera
the tops of heads bouncing like mountains
valleys of shoulders and smiles.
And we’re in the Penthouse suite with the windows open
doing what married people do.
Now we’re snowboarding down the curtains
through the stems of lacy flowers.
And now we’re sunbathing
on the plastic sunflower on the kitchen table.
Well, while you’ve been standing there
telling me about you test on Tuesday,
my wife and I decided to build our dream home
on top of your head –
you should be tasting the foundation
and the plumbing
anytime now.
And we’re celebrating by doing what married people do.
I didn’t catch that last part;
your test, it’s when?
Ah yes, on Tuesday.
Now my wife is giving birth to our son
in the hospital on your left shoulder.
We named him Gibraltar.
He is soft and firm
like a good loaf of bread
and his room is looking out at the party
over your right ear.
He is beautiful – I think I’ll make another
while you’re telling me every single little detail
about your test on Tuesday.
Well now, I have died
in a tragic base jumping accident
off of the bookshelf in the corner by the window.
And your teeth are lined
nice and sad
like polished gravestones
and one of them is mine –
or maybe all of them.
I have lived many lives
and died many deaths
since you’ve been standing there
at this party
telling me
about your test
on Tuesday.
