Here's this week's www.textsfromlastnight.com poem.
(202):
Is 36 too old to fuck a college student? THIS IS BOTH IMPORTANT AND TIME SENSITIVE
I’m in the cab, Simon.
Got maybe twenty-six minutes left to reason me down.
Otherwise, I shutter off the phone,
Pop a Tic-Tac,
Make it to her dorm,
Spend the weekend straddling the top of a rickety twin bunk
bed.
Fighting for dominance with her stuffed animals.
Rules. Of course. I
know – divide in half, add seven.
And that gives me, what?
26? 25?
Sex math’s hard. And
fact upon fact,
By mid-twenties, (twenty-one minutes,
And no, don’t play the
dignity card –
That’s like trying to
start a fire
With wet leaves)
Women wise up. Seek
more. See that ramshackle
Stare on my face, see me as a tourist of
Human experience. (sixteen
minutes, Simon –
You’ve got to really
flex your rhetoric, buddy.
Been a dry spell. Some goddamn
Annus horribilis )
And if love’s a tomb of compromise,
If I still, years later,
Wake ragged, screaming,
And I justify yesterday’s hateful word,
Each blow. Each
artful punishment.
Clearly, something deserved and true.
If there is no anger in response to that decade,
That child who earned no comfort or protection,
But only a well of manicured sadness,
Then let me live as a charming ghost.
I'll cope.
Be of service.
Entertain.
Whisper. Listen.
Hold court and self-protect.
It’s time. I’ve paid
the fare.
There’s a spittle of snow starting.
Too hot to stick.
Just makes a flitter and melts.
Talk soon.
