 |
|
Defense
How to convince someone you're neither cheap nor easy, when you're
fickle & it looks the same? Sure, I've had my four-year, two-month,
six-week boyfriends, three or four men named James, a John, a father
of one, father of two, waiters, hairdressers, a boot-maker, the
local slut, countless drunks, a drag queen, her best friend, my
best friend, a Brit on leopard-print sheets, a skater-boy, a millionaire
or compulsive liar, the cross-eyed colour-blind man who wanted me
for my dress, the counter person at Mr. Submarine, a one-testicle
guy who lost it to infection from a knife wound, the second one-testicle
guy to a hurdle, & a few dozen whose names, personalities or
distinguishing characteristics I didn't get, but truly, given the
circumstances, can you blame me?
It's like the woman at the fruit stand who picks up an orange &
sets it back down for another, then another in place of that until
she's gone through the lot of them & none looks any better than
the rest, though, the first one, the niggling mind adds, the first
was ideal, for sure. Can she find it? No. She never will. One orange
has little to set it apart from another.
After a time & some number men are the same too where all you
do is peel them back, chew them up & spit out the seeds. You
sigh. Perhaps there is someone better out there, only he isn't yet
meant to be. If you turn another corner, have another blind date,
tour the park one more time he will be sitting there waiting in
his sharp black coat & leather boots hands propped in his lap
like they need to cradle something only you've got to offer.
|
