“come home with me”
- a note beneath the windshield wiper
this is how you earn brag rights,
or how you always throw them away

you didn’t even add your name to the bottom
how could one ever forget the way you curl your “t’s”
and allow the “e” at the end to linger just a little too long

just like us,
lingering too fucking long

you always park far enough away from the door,
where the parking lot cameras can’t reach,
the places where even the security guards won’t venture

it would be so easy to fuck in your car,
in the front seat, even, with the dark tint on your windows;
we’ve done it plenty of times

and I know better than to even consider the possibility that
I’m the only one to have straddled your face in the backseat;
the stench of someone else’s pussy made me want to vomit, once

you’ve had me bare-chested on the gravel with rocks in my teeth,
and I’ve had you begging to be fucked by my strap-on

neither of us believes in pride before sex

I’m not going to call you out on
not moving past us fast enough

but I know your new year’s resolution was to find
someone else’s lips to part;

you’ll find your note tucked neatly inside her purse.

01/12/2009

Posted on 01/13/2009
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