From her I learned:
the importance of having two separate
and distinctive eyebrows,
and that in one week
my nose hairs
make me look as though
I’d tried snorting a spider.
I also learned proper dress
(something had to be done)
and that epileptic,
forlorn jumping jacks
does not qualify as dancing.
I also learned that when a woman
begin feeling on the arms of guys
they just met
that it’s time to leave,
to drink,
and to write poetry.
Now,
love isn’t a “battlefield”
but it’s certainly a contact sport
with some better than others
and everyone hurt at least some.
Some are simply bruised of “no”
Or being ignored,
while others have
broken
ribs;
jagged on their ends;
shredding lung tissue
They fill with blood.
Can’t breath.
Smiles are
only
stapled on.
Yes, it’s a game
and if I were coaching I’d say
To first
have a hot woman FRIEND
playing scout
and actually do what she says;
To not be afraid
of solitude.
It hurts but a
whorish,
lying woman
Will
hurt
much
worse.
But FIRST and MOST- remember to
Like
The
Guy
That
You
Are.
And whoever says it’s not a game
Is only making
the first move.
New Orleans, LA – 8/8/09.
|
Submission Name: The Guy That You Are
