Oh, my ex-girlfriend was a chair specialist, the top scholar in her field.
We start off trying to make mojitos, but then I’m just drinking
jack and lemonade
under a yellow moon.
Then all my skin is warm. Then I think I’ve passed some critical point.
How many bug bites can I even hold? How many conversation like this –
I’d like to rewrite the arrangement. From now on my job is mostly about sunbathing.
From now on we only agree to see each other
so long as we’re really cracking up.
Okay?
My dad sits in the back alone. The magic girl puts her hand on his chest
to thank a compliment. Next door there are grunts and growls.
My neighbor is a perfect swimmer, missing her much younger boyfriend
more and more each day.
Tomorrow is the auction.
And my life writhes, like water chained off
by beach rope.
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