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oracle of sorrow


noir in a highball glass & her wicked, quivering heart on a
cold blue plate: last meal for the condemned.

itís a common story that craves to be unique. itís about a
man & a woman & how twisted love can be. thatís what
makes itÖ.. common.

I do okay with love, I avoid it completely. but just when you
think youíve got all the angles figured, a dame comes along
to show you why every man is born a fool.

she got me with her looks at first, long dark hair that hangs
loose like silk vines, & a tight body that moved like a pagan
dancer. but she got me solid with her words: Ďyouíre different
from other men, baby, the pretty things you tell me. I know
the kind of dirty loving you want, & I would do that. I would do
that for you, baby.í

and she did, & threw in a few tricks of her own. the way she
held me melted the ice inside me. her moans & her wails, her
deep kisses. it made me something strange & crazy & wonderful.
I couldíve composed an opera or written poems. a bum like me.

but there were nights when she left me alone. she did charity
work, she said.

one night, in the parking lot at Bogartís, I walked past a í48 Chevy
that seemed to rock gently in an indiscreet way. I peeked in, &
caught her performing lewd acts on a hipster in a crooked fedora.

when she got home, it came on quick & reckless. I called her a whore
& she slapped me, so I hit her & knocked her down; it was the first
time I ever saw her cry. my mind took off for a beach on a lonely island,
leaving me abandoned & fatal.

my hands gripped her throat like angels of retribution. she stared at me
with almost innocent eyes that were so afraid of death, & somehow my
anger diminished. I felt only the oracle of sorrow, averring that love is the
cruelest thing, even more than loneliness. when it was done, I walked.
I walked a long way.

so here I am on an old wooden bridge that hangs mournfully over a
swift & moody river. itís a long drop; I figure if Iím goiní out, Iím goiní
out with a little romance.

I can see just as far as the starlight burning on the water.
I can see her eyes, calling meÖ


(Artist unknown)



Written by JohnFeddeler
Published
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