21 Years + 1 Month, 2 Weeks, and 3 Days
He grew up with an absent father
but an omnipresent mother
who blamed him for losing the father
who hadn’t minded the ball
but hadn’t want the chain
attached to it.
She had given birth,
but she hadn’t given life,
and when he had the chance
to meet a girl
who loved his brokenness
because she believed
it complemented her wholeness,
he, so eager to prove that
he wasn’t his father’s son,
planted a part of himself in her,
only for her to do
what his mother had always wished
she had done.
Kandi Barr’s Quandary
When a beau broke up with her
(it was never the other way around),
she turned to Mr. Goodbar.
When she lost another job
(always a dead-end one),
she found a Payday.
When she needed a break from the world
(a world where size 28W was hard to find),
she opted for a Milky Way.
When she didn’t know what the hell she wanted,
she went for a Whatchamacallit.
Then she met the man
who gave her a 100 Grand–
a man who knew she was the one–
even though he couldn’t wrap his arms around her.
The fact that she was king-sized & marshmallow-soft
appealed to him,
so when she became happy,
the stress (& the fat) melted away,
but so did his fat fetish-based love.
Under the Floridian Sun
She built a little house,
and a great big life.
She married well,
she married for life.
She’d found love,
but not a soul-mate,
for she, not the stars,
They were child- and carefree
for he loved whom he had found,
not who he could have created.
Then the day came that she needed
a part of him he could live without.
She lived, but he did not.
The irony was metallic,
Under the Floridian sun,
he was buried–
the hurricanes with her wild horses came,
the rains turned the ground muddy,
and there was that thready blanket of snow
that came one winter.
Then long after she came to join him,
everyone who had memory of him,
like ashes in the wind.
like a childhood scar,
until it could no longer be seen.