Pure Slush

flash ... without the wank

Bitch, Please

 

 <  The Quarry

Picking Shirts  >

 

by Samuel Cole

 

No, I didn’t skip work yesterday

and sit beside a strange man

at the movies, ignoring the

many, other open seats, and no,

I didn’t slurp diet Pepsi and crunch

butter popcorn during the trailers,

and no, he didn’t giggle, and no,

I didn’t apologize for the noisiness,

and no, he didn’t say I think it’s cute,

kinda like you, and no, I didn’t blush

or ask what other, new movies

has he seen lately, and no, he didn’t

say at his age seeing outmaneuvers

believing, and no, I didn’t tell him I lack

conviction in my life, and no, he didn’t

tell me his daughter died last month

in Iraq, and no, we didn’t hold hands

one-hour into the disheartening plot, and no,

I didn’t rest my head on his shoulder and

sob, and no, he didn’t whisper, let it out,

it’s not good to hold it in, and no, we didn’t

sit quiet like dust mites through the credits.

We stood and faded like breath in the air. 

 

published 1 July 2015