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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Post Script To A Mended Heart
(i)
A late 90’s vodka hangover scented with
beer farts, used condoms and a dirty
ashtray smell, with the tongue feel of a
filthy barroom rug, kissed by some cold
anchovy pizza for breakfast. Followed up
by trying to wakeup the naked chick you
fucked last night (whom you recognize as
a friend’s wife once you roll her over on
the bed) for dessert, washed down with
a warm stale beer and a half smoked
cigarette.
(ii)
Another bleary eyed night shift, lick-me-
where-I-shit, under the midnight sun, screw
with your sleep patterns, at a dead end job.
But you can’t complain too much because
your rent is cheap and the money keeps
you in cigarettes and booze so you can
fuck random bar sluts. The only redeeming
thing is that you get to play cards on the
MSN Gaming Zone with the nice blonde
girl with the blue-green eyes who seems
to think you’re sweet and, will ask you to
marry her in 3 months.
(iii)
Get up early, without a 5 alarm hangover,
so you can get to culinary school early, all
the while thinking you should have done this
when you were 21 and not 35, but you were
too busy swilling down alcohol and sticking
your dick in any hole with hair around it. You
still find it hard believe that you have more
skill in a kitchen than 10 of your classmates
combined, but the blue-green eyed blonde
girl you married has believed in you enough
for you to believe in yourself so that you’re
not scared anymore or an arrogant asshole.
(iv)
10 years down the road in a new city, moving
into your first house together, even though
the cooking jobs didn’t really pay shit unless
you own your own restaurant, but the new
career has paid off over the past 7 years.
Finally the scars came to the surface and you
told your parents, in your last drunken and
blacked out stupor, and the blue-green eyed
girl you married that you had been sexually
abused as a child, but the therapy group
you’ve been in for the past 18 weeks has
really helped to put things in perspective.
(v)
Modern day, another one spent in a covid
induced paradise (even though covid hasn’t
affected our jobs or life all that much), but
through thick and thin the blue-green eyed
girl has been beside you for 20 years and you
appreciate all she’s done and all she’s ever
been to you. She doesn’t have a giant ego,
is kind and caring, doesn’t have messed up
behaviour issues, isn’t a melodramatic,
gossiping, backbiting skank who has to sell
her dignity for attention, but is genuine and
generous to a fault and, at the end of the
day you realize you’ve been the same rock
for her as she’s been for you.
A late 90’s vodka hangover scented with
beer farts, used condoms and a dirty
ashtray smell, with the tongue feel of a
filthy barroom rug, kissed by some cold
anchovy pizza for breakfast. Followed up
by trying to wakeup the naked chick you
fucked last night (whom you recognize as
a friend’s wife once you roll her over on
the bed) for dessert, washed down with
a warm stale beer and a half smoked
cigarette.
(ii)
Another bleary eyed night shift, lick-me-
where-I-shit, under the midnight sun, screw
with your sleep patterns, at a dead end job.
But you can’t complain too much because
your rent is cheap and the money keeps
you in cigarettes and booze so you can
fuck random bar sluts. The only redeeming
thing is that you get to play cards on the
MSN Gaming Zone with the nice blonde
girl with the blue-green eyes who seems
to think you’re sweet and, will ask you to
marry her in 3 months.
(iii)
Get up early, without a 5 alarm hangover,
so you can get to culinary school early, all
the while thinking you should have done this
when you were 21 and not 35, but you were
too busy swilling down alcohol and sticking
your dick in any hole with hair around it. You
still find it hard believe that you have more
skill in a kitchen than 10 of your classmates
combined, but the blue-green eyed blonde
girl you married has believed in you enough
for you to believe in yourself so that you’re
not scared anymore or an arrogant asshole.
(iv)
10 years down the road in a new city, moving
into your first house together, even though
the cooking jobs didn’t really pay shit unless
you own your own restaurant, but the new
career has paid off over the past 7 years.
Finally the scars came to the surface and you
told your parents, in your last drunken and
blacked out stupor, and the blue-green eyed
girl you married that you had been sexually
abused as a child, but the therapy group
you’ve been in for the past 18 weeks has
really helped to put things in perspective.
(v)
Modern day, another one spent in a covid
induced paradise (even though covid hasn’t
affected our jobs or life all that much), but
through thick and thin the blue-green eyed
girl has been beside you for 20 years and you
appreciate all she’s done and all she’s ever
been to you. She doesn’t have a giant ego,
is kind and caring, doesn’t have messed up
behaviour issues, isn’t a melodramatic,
gossiping, backbiting skank who has to sell
her dignity for attention, but is genuine and
generous to a fault and, at the end of the
day you realize you’ve been the same rock
for her as she’s been for you.
Published 9th Jan 2022
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9th Jan 2022 2:51pm
9th Jan 2022 3:02pm
