I Know This Girl

“I know this girl

this nineteen year old girl

her cunt tastes like strawberries and peaches”

he said to me.

I couldn’t tell if he was joking, but I liked it.

He was the kind of fellow

The kind of guy

Drank wine all day

And whiskey all night

And that’s how I hope to remember him someday.

He could put words on a page, let me tell you.

We’d watch clever television with the lights off and the commentary on,

But fuck with the lights on sometimes,

(For variety)

And we’d eat pancakes at 4am. And laugh, as we walked along the rubble-stained highway.

And it was alright.

Now,

Three thousand miles

And a stretch of ocean for an airplane runway

Separates us.

Sometimes I want to eat pancakes at 4am,

But there’s no place to go. And nobody to laugh with.

So last night, in my lonely box, with four blank walls staring at me,

I stuck a cool finger

Into the electric hot box

And tasted the nectar—

No strawberries and peaches at all,

But the taste is tangy and sweet.