Bite More / Taste Less -------> (Ramblings)

Ramblings of a alleged realist, supposed poet, and apparently ambitious something-or-other.

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.