Hard

We drink,
laughing at the awkward girl
in the kitchen drunk,
yapping about how she doesn’t suck
dick.

We’re all blown
away by her comment,
puzzled as to where it came
from during the conversation.

Slightly cruel remarks ensue,
it really doesn’t help                                                
that unbeknownst to her we froze
two cocksicle trays in the freezer
before the party started;
we had no idea she was
even coming.

The foreshadowing is comedic gold;
we can’t
wait
to ask if she wants
ice for her drink.

I take out the piece
de resistance,
the mango dicksicle; she turns
ten shades of red.

My friend sucks and bites the knob
off, I choose
to eat the left nut,
another tears the right,
the shaft is passed around; she runs
out of the kitchen in embarrassment.

Did we go too far ? Not yet.

She settles down, comes
back in the house,
we try to regain
our composure.

If only she knew
we had another cock chilling
in the freezer box.

I say out loud
“I need more ice”
taking the last frozen dick
from the tray, politely
ask her if she would like to taste my nut,
she declines in horror,
I tap the knob
off the counter top splitting
it from the shaft perfectly,
dropping it into my ninth drink.

She must have toured the house
in the minutes to follow,
she catches me
off guard in saying
“ Oohh my God, I never                        
met a guy before who was so clean !”.

My reply:
“ Umm what ? Yeah,
I’m cleanly, not really
a big deal,
I”m like that
I guess”.

Her response:
“ No !
It really is. I can’t
believe it,
I think that’s so amazing,
etc, etc, blah, blah, blah”.

I’m obviously paying
little to no attention to her, more
concentrated at the amount of green
apple slices in my Sweet O cup.

Then she says “You should be my boyfriend for the night”!

Who the fuck says something like that ?
Especially after the show

she put on,
or well, we put on too.

I near choke on my fucking apple slice,
not impressed.
“What !!? No.
Seriously ? No.
What ?
Why would I ?
Sorry,
no.

I turn my back,
walk
towards the deck where sane people
stand chatting in a circle;
I need a haul off
a joint.

It’s starting to get closer
to the time where
a cab needs to be called;
I round
up the crew to head
off to the club.

Between the five of us the eleven
dollar cab
costs two bucks and some
change; a bargain ride.

Cover charge costs no coin,
our friend works there
which in turn
gets us in for free.

My coat check is free,
not sure why,
the others had to pay,
I think I know her
from school, who
knows, I tipped anyways.

Straight to the bar,
straight shots,

we raise our tiny plastic cups
cheering to the burn;
black licorice.

Dance flood filled with girls,
sexy skirts,
double drinks,
long legs,
short smiles.

I come across my friends in the window
corner;
one girl
dancing with a girl
I have yet to have
the pleasure of meeting.

She’s an eleven;
my favourite number.

We make quick
introductions,
conversation,
I can’t
hear a word she says;
wasted
laughter written across our faces
shooting like a shot down
our stomach.

She abruptly tell me she loves
me,
we jest at the joke;
I still can’t
recall her name.

She holds my hand,
intertwines my fingers between hers,
raising them in the strobe lit air
as we dance until the white
lights flip
and the club closes.

Out on the crowded brick walk
she stands tall with her

blonde friend, typical,
unoriginal, rude,
who tells me she’s not
interested in me,
I say “ask her”;
name still eluding my memory.

A non responsive answer,
inaudible,
only another smile.

I say fuck their smiles,
none of which are sucking my dick.

I make my exit, call
a cab; failure.

Call another, nothing,
they all pass us by,
my friend and I
wait
until a ride finally arrives.

The front door is unlocked,
liquor is empty,
food stale,
bed cold,
night
buzzing in my mind;
I could go
for another cold beer.

Maybe I should just go
to sleep; hard.