Tuesday, February 8, 2011


true story.

“And so,

the event rages on. the lights dimming,

the bodies pulsating and sucking the cold

out of the room. She approaches me, nose

nearly scraping mine.

“Oh god he’s so annoying.

I wish he didn’t come here.

I didn’t invite him.

I wish I can make out with anyone.

I want to just make out with anyone right now.

I don’t care who. I just want to do it.”

Her hot breath tumbles across my lower lip,

the hairs on the back of my neck raise.

This is what I’ve been waiting for, for a while.

She darts her head left and right, never leaving my personal zone.

I tilt my head down, eyes fixed on hers,

everyone else vanishing into a black void.

“How about me?” I poise the question with a naughty assurance.

Playfully. deadly serious.

It registers on her face my intentions and she pulls back. “Not now.”

somewhere a record needle scratches an imaginary 45.

I feel the gravity of the situation crushing down on my head. stunned.

“Not never.” I defeatedly reply.

her answer is mumbled, but answer enough.

hours later she makes out furiously with the annoying guy

as I pick up trash from the gallery’s floor.


Karen said...

Ahhh. Sorry that wasn't a fun time for you. But really, she's probably not even worth your time.

On a slightly related note, I love the writing style of it: neither prose nor poetry, but somewhere in between.

alexmercado said...

ha ha thanks karen,
ut seens kuje high school
never ends, and i'm so old!
i like to call it the
mid-conversation bret-easton ellis
style of monologue. ;-)