A Couple of Jinxes
We had lousy luck.
Searching for some wonderful job, we often fell asleep.
She burnt to a crisp in the afternoon sun.
Still, I loved her.
None of it was too unpleasant.
“C’mon darling.”
Her father chastised her thoughts.
He hung over our heads like a dead man, for he was dead, and she laughed about it.
Even so, there were strips of her flesh I couldn’t touch.
She’d shake and wail.
I’d bite her tits, feed from her pierced nipples like pennies on my tongue.
Her pain, it saddened us and turned me on.
Those days and nights spent in the park, she’d wander from tent to tent.
Continent to continent.
Begging for a way back, I belted to the pines a couple lines by Dylan.
She was always buzzed.
As was I.
We made dandelion and purslane crowns, shielding our eyes with paper-white plastic bags.
“What more can I give you?”
She chewed her lip bloody and I thought I knew then, nothing is all that important.
Time passed.
I was going nowhere so I left.
We parted.
Later, they scattered her ashes along her father’s grave.
I knew the guy she bought from, and meant to confront him. Instead, I got myself a fix.
That’s how it was.
Lisa, I don’t miss you often enough.
Lisa, I loved ya.
And Lisa,
I left you alone in the park, knowing you wouldn’t last.
We had lousy luck.