I stick my head out of the gutter for one freaking second and fate shovels shit in my face.
first day back at work in the shop
since being bedridden from last October
through christmas and new years,
wrestling with satan's little minions
and the diaries of men.
And not even 20 mins into my shift
an ex comes into the store,
she's always wearing sports wear
because she's always running,
but she came in with her smiling Jesus
somewhere above her crown,
and it ruined me.
At first I stood at the counter and thought
about penance,
my cologne decision,
my giant pale
body,
shoved into
grandma's
Christmas T-shirt.
I can barely stand up,
but that's another issue,
now my hearts going like the clappers
and it makes no sense because I don't really care.
I buzz my coworker
and the angel Karen comes down
to assist.
“Is it okay if I head out back for a second?”
“yes of course,”
she needs no explanation,
because older women know,
and my coworker karen
knows,
and I am a child, a disordered man,
I've already sung my song.
my heart is racing and
my knees are weak,
the arrow turns inward,
I walk out to the back and
sit out in the open air
staring at a stupid summer
who forgot my name,
I've never found a girl
reliable as the seasons.
I turn to get up after a few minutes,
some Lord inside
delegating,
“Maybe you should just get up and
say hello”
I stand to my feet faint,
I think of Isaiah and the poets who lie,
I walk out the back room and lean
past the door,
she's still there–
for the love of all that's been and gone,
the girl is still here.
I lean back against the door frame,
I think about the words I love you
and the eulogies in my mouth
she's walking around the store
looking through the clothes
for the lost little pretend
that doesn't exist
she scans the clothes with
her tamil eyes
the same way
she scanned my lines
and never read a word,
everything is surface level,
the two years that have passed,
passed like a tv left on in
an empty house alone,
I don't know these years anymore,
and her tamil eyes scan mine
as my hand goes up and
waves,
she breaks a smile,
for a single second,
her smile comes back,
and she waves back
like I am familiar,
her wound and want in green and helpless skin,
maybe I should walk around
with a big sign on my head
that says
“I am not him”
“as much as I tried”
“I am not your lover”.
I put my hand down
and her smile breaks,
she turns back to the clothes
looking for a little dress
that never existed,
She scans the clothes again
like seashells,
“these are all the same” she's thinking,
but she cannot see,
she cannot see anything when I'm around.
and I walk out the back again,
and another coworker asks me
“are you okay?”
“not really”
“are you not feeling well?
“no, it's not that”
“well it is that, but also my
ex is in the store”
“ohhhhhh dear” she says
in a motherly tone,
and she is older too,
much older
and older women know,
whereas the young women think they know.
And my coworker turns to me,
sitting down for her lunch,
and says
“well you could ask her how are you?”
and I say
“What If I don't want to know?”
and she says
“then say nothing”.
I walk back out and sit down at the counter again,
Karen walks away with a smile,
I sit back down at the counter,
and my ex walks down to where I'm sitting,
and then she moves past the counter,
still looking for that lost little perfection,
still looking for the dream,
the lie,
still avoiding the truth,
that a wedding cannot insure
glass from sand to remain intact,
and then she quits, and walks out the door.
I sigh and turn away.
She came in with nothing,
and she left with nothing,
a case of deja vu
and if that's the way it has to be,
then that's the way it is.
g.j.u