alexandra leaving
Alexandra has had many boyfriends before
she became my girlfriend. most of them
ended over her over analyzing manner
or her short temper and fiery arguments over
the smallest of things.
I’d admit right now
though
she was a wonderful kisser
and one of the best listeners
and loved the finest classical music
of any woman I’ve met before and
till now.
one night, I came back to my
apartment and there
she sat, on my couch,
wild fiery red brown hair,
hazel hateful eyes.
“where were you?”
she said, standing now.
she was wearing nothing more than
an old sweater she got two Christmas’
ago and a long floral dress her
last girlfriend gave her for
her 19th birthday. she was turning
22 in November of next year.
“I was out, kid. Calm your jets.”
I was already in the kitchen when she
came up behind me, tugging at
my arm.
“WHO’S THE WHORE? WHO’S
THE FUCKING WHORE!”
she was mad. she was simply
mad. crazy, I mean. insane, if
I could be so mean.
I pulled away and got a
bottle of Merlot
and poured her and I
a glass.
“here. have some. It’ll help calm you down,” I
said.
she took her drink and
drank it full.
“TELL ME WHO THE FUCKING—”
she threw the glass to the door.
“—WHORE IS!”
I said, “CALM DOWN, YOU BITCH!
THAT WAS A GOOD GLASS!”
I drank my drink and I stood in the kitchen
feeling stupider than I’ve ever felt.
even at work, the men do not respect me.
the women think I’m a joke. when I look
in the mirror in the morning and night, I
do not respect the man smiling back at me.
he is stupid and has a stupid grin
and has nothing to contribute to my
existence.
now, Alexandra, some whore
from some fucking room in
some fucking home from a
good fucking family,
does not respect me.
“get the fuck out of my apartment,” I
told her, drinking my drink, fully
and thoughtfully.
“no. not until you tell me who the fucking whore is, Seth! You tell me who the fucking whore is!”
“I was at work! the most ass I get at work is when I look at the young women
walking by in their short skirts!”
“you fucked some bitch! I can see it in your eyes! you’re smiling. you’re smiling more than usual! that smile of yours. it’s real. you fucked some bitch and she made you happy! who the fuck did you let suck your dick!?”
this time I threw
my drink, but I was honest
about it.
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT BEFORE
I CALL THE COPS!”
she finally did
but as she left
you could hear her cursing a storm
downstairs, all the way
to her car, all the way out
of the complex, all the way
home.
I shut the door behind her
and I locked it.
I turned on the tv and went into the
closet to get a dustbin and
a broom.
I cleaned up the shards of glass, working
my fingers into the carpet to get
the smaller pieces.
the night drew darker
and my drinks became lighter
and as I sat there on the couch
thinking of that excellent fuck earlier
today I am left to think of what Judith would
have done if he found Jesus Christ fucking
his sister’s best friend.
she became my girlfriend. most of them
ended over her over analyzing manner
or her short temper and fiery arguments over
the smallest of things.
I’d admit right now
though
she was a wonderful kisser
and one of the best listeners
and loved the finest classical music
of any woman I’ve met before and
till now.
one night, I came back to my
apartment and there
she sat, on my couch,
wild fiery red brown hair,
hazel hateful eyes.
“where were you?”
she said, standing now.
she was wearing nothing more than
an old sweater she got two Christmas’
ago and a long floral dress her
last girlfriend gave her for
her 19th birthday. she was turning
22 in November of next year.
“I was out, kid. Calm your jets.”
I was already in the kitchen when she
came up behind me, tugging at
my arm.
“WHO’S THE WHORE? WHO’S
THE FUCKING WHORE!”
she was mad. she was simply
mad. crazy, I mean. insane, if
I could be so mean.
I pulled away and got a
bottle of Merlot
and poured her and I
a glass.
“here. have some. It’ll help calm you down,” I
said.
she took her drink and
drank it full.
“TELL ME WHO THE FUCKING—”
she threw the glass to the door.
“—WHORE IS!”
I said, “CALM DOWN, YOU BITCH!
THAT WAS A GOOD GLASS!”
I drank my drink and I stood in the kitchen
feeling stupider than I’ve ever felt.
even at work, the men do not respect me.
the women think I’m a joke. when I look
in the mirror in the morning and night, I
do not respect the man smiling back at me.
he is stupid and has a stupid grin
and has nothing to contribute to my
existence.
now, Alexandra, some whore
from some fucking room in
some fucking home from a
good fucking family,
does not respect me.
“get the fuck out of my apartment,” I
told her, drinking my drink, fully
and thoughtfully.
“no. not until you tell me who the fucking whore is, Seth! You tell me who the fucking whore is!”
“I was at work! the most ass I get at work is when I look at the young women
walking by in their short skirts!”
“you fucked some bitch! I can see it in your eyes! you’re smiling. you’re smiling more than usual! that smile of yours. it’s real. you fucked some bitch and she made you happy! who the fuck did you let suck your dick!?”
this time I threw
my drink, but I was honest
about it.
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT BEFORE
I CALL THE COPS!”
she finally did
but as she left
you could hear her cursing a storm
downstairs, all the way
to her car, all the way out
of the complex, all the way
home.
I shut the door behind her
and I locked it.
I turned on the tv and went into the
closet to get a dustbin and
a broom.
I cleaned up the shards of glass, working
my fingers into the carpet to get
the smaller pieces.
the night drew darker
and my drinks became lighter
and as I sat there on the couch
thinking of that excellent fuck earlier
today I am left to think of what Judith would
have done if he found Jesus Christ fucking
his sister’s best friend.