dad loves telling the story
of when i was 2
and tried to put my finger in the electrical socket.
he grabbed my wrist
and smacked the back of his own hand
and i burst into tears.
“it was as if i really hurt you,” he says, laughing. “lemme tell you
you never got near those sockets again.”
in and out of doors
should be attached to alarms
laugh because they’re not
rotting in the recliner
dying in front of TBS and FOX
watching spongebob just because it was something
“i used to make pizza,” he said once
when i was making pizza.
“down the club.”
“yeah. the dough was only like a dollar from Roma’s
and then the sauce from the store was pretty cheap too.
i wish i remembered the recipe.”
he left. phone call
and i was left to stare in disbelief at the oven.
owen and jim are absorbed in whatever
jim’s working for like,
an insurance company?
and he’s getting annoyed at his boss asking him to order his groceries for him.
jim has the body of a man when he wants it.
when he’s playing dungeons and dragons
you believe he would really use a sword to kill.
when he’s just being himself
you doubt whether he’d know which end to hold.
for such a big dude
with such a well-kept beard
he’s rather immature
when he can afford to be.
i couldn’t tell jim this stuff. he wouldn’t get it.
he’d be too awkward
and then run off.
Once at camp
(2 weeks long)
a girl admitted she was jealous
because i always had mail
and she never got a single letter.
sure, i said
but they’re nothing.
it’s my stupid grandmother
writing page after page
a letter a day
the first few i read
but the rest i didn’t open.
all those pages of indecipherable cursive did was get up my hope
that thomas had finally sat his skinny ass down
and written me.
(i found out later that his skinny ass
was busy cheating on me
but they’re still letters,
he’s mad because i slept with someone while we were in the process of breaking up
and in an open relationship.
I’m mad because he went on a date with someone 5 days after we broke up
we’re both mad, but we’re both in the wrong
and none of it matters, because we’re already broken up
but that doesn’t stop our screaming
and it doesn’t stop me daydreaming about it years later
getting flustered in college lectures
restructuring dead arguments
perfecting my points
as if i’d ever get another draft.
i still don’t know who was more right.
all i know is i’ve never yelled louder.
i scared myself.
i haven’t yelled like that since.
i always catch myself
promise myself my worst lies in him.