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Odds (and Ends)

by Jon-Jacob F Deal

Every time I get into my car,
I glance over at where your feet used to go
And see the packaging for your birth control
Field-stripped on the floorboards,
Discarded--my cellulose blood-brother.
99.99 percent effective with perfect use,
Claims the documentation.
You used to obsess over that figure.
Does that mean the chance is 1 in 10,000? you asked.
Being the less numerate of us, I did some hasty arithmetic
And cautiously agreed.
I don't like those odds, you said.
Neither did I;
Far too slim,
Because I knew the odds of finding another you
Were slimmer still.

If only throwing away the flotsam of love
Was as easy as unburdening myself
Of all those Xs and Ys had been;
Those billion failed futures
Sacrificed for my orgasms,
Which you always wanted
But all those tiny wasted halves of me,
You never did.

06/22/2009

Posted on 06/22/2009
Copyright © 2024 Jon-Jacob F Deal

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Elle O'Connor on 06/22/09 at 09:39 PM

I have been an admirer of your work since I first joined years ago. You really should write more.

Posted by V. Blake on 06/25/09 at 08:39 AM

I will confess that it took me a couple of rereads to get that "far too slim" comment, but then again, I've been up for about 20 hours. Anyway, as soon as I realized I had been reading it all wrong, I recognized how clever that bit really was. I'm impressed once again.

Posted by Nanette Bellman on 08/09/09 at 06:25 PM

This piece is elegant. It's simple and too the point. Short and sweet with soo much said. It hits home for me. I think you're one of my new favorite poets here. ;)

Posted by Cassandra Leigh on 10/26/09 at 05:50 AM

You're incredible. I'm poking through your library and it is making my night.

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