Tuesday, May 30, 2017

"blonde after blonde"

"blonde after blonde"
written with guilt in the blood and shame in the muscles by jake kilroy.

shake the earth and find that nothing came loose,
somewhere between the ocean and the downtown bars
you wrangled and then slaughtered without reason or mercy,
hungry for home or at least something that tastes like it.
a long weekend is too much time away from your desk.
brutalized and hulking,
a mass of regret
hastily assembled,
you march to the beat
of the same drummer
you always have,
the one who says you'll do better,
laughing because you haven't ever,
after a blonde who reminds you of a blonde
you always wanted a second chance with.
pour it on thick and then slip in it
and smash your hands
trying to catch yourself
in a graceless fall from grace
bouncing off the ground like it swung at you
hours before you were forced into a parking lot
for brawling in an arcade.
wait out the moon
to see the sun
and not recognize it,
reborn without forgiveness
never forgotten,
disgusted this time again.
go home to nothing.
promise change.
see if it happens.
write this poem again.