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She says She’s there, right there
for me
but I see
She’s there alright
some where else entirely
com-Pletely out-of-sight
I haven’t been in Her mind for hours
or is it years – it doesn’t matter
except to ME
yet, there She is, still pirouettin’ on the tip of my tongue
like some goddamn fairy in the Nut-cracker
She’s crackin’ my chest-nuts under her heels
roastin’ ‘em on that open fuckin’ fire
the one which, in my mind, burns out of control
without the proper county permit
with no fire trucks hanging tight to put out my confounded conflagration,
fuck,
I hate this goddamn Book,
especially when I read it backwards
fuck,
She’s driving me nuts

I’d swallow Her if I could
let Her slide straight down my throat
into my gut without a bite
fill my rib cage with Her warmth
so I could sleep soundly, at least tonight

but all Her heat is bleedin’ into someone else’s pupils
makin’ his eyes bloodshot from sleep deprivation
givin’ him bags under his eyes
Her skin warmin’ his hands

I’m forgotten until he’s gone away
slipped back in the side door
to his wife and kids, and that elephant in the center of their living room,
to play house again

I know I’ll hear from Her soon
boredom will set back in and begin that itch
which She’ll scratch raw with the key pad of Her telephone
or Her keyboard

She doesn’t know, She hasn’t figured it out,
we’re readin’ the same Book –
the Book of Life,
we’re just on different pages

I’m chapters, fuckin’ chapters ahead
should I spoil the ending for Her, tell Her how it is
or let Her enjoy the read,
laugh the laughs,
rise with the build of those oh-so-masterfully-crafted words
that dick has written – he’s just another dead-author-of-the-classics, you know,
GOD, that is –

should I tell Her about the twist at Chapter 33
it’s a real tit grabber, Fate’ll fuckin’ take Her by the nipples
between a thumb and index finger with a grip like a rusty steel vice –
Fate, the pre-destined skank-ho that she is –

why Fate’ll turn turn turn
twist twist twist
those sensitive little bumps until the flesh just separates
with a nice big smackin’ oh-so-painful POP

that’s the part when all that laughter
turns to tears and boo hoo hoos
those memories,
fuck,
all those sweaty lusty bumpin’ grindin’ nightmares
that seemed soooo tasty and sweet at the time
She’ll wanna forget ‘em if She could
but She won’t be able

despite Her best efforts to destroy the brain cells in which they're imprisoned
they’ll be on Her mind like maggots on a dead white rabbit in a swamp
in the Florida Everglades under a hot Sun on a mid-summer mid-day
She’ll look over Her shoulder and see the blood trail
as it soaks into the soil, growing untraceable, pungent nonetheless
She’ll wonder then why She played at the same folly as middle-aged men
years before them, but for all the same goddamn gender-un-specific reasons
wasted Her youth and good looks on fleetin’ moments
instead of investin’ in Her self, in Her un-a-void-able future
the one that was already written in that page-turner of a Book
by that sadistic, chode-huffin’-prick-of-an-author, GOD, the evil bastard

fuck,
She wouldn’t believe me if I told Her

how many motherfuckers tried to tell me to skip chapters 30 through 39
just jump straight to 40 ... I can see I should’ve listened
but goddamn, here I am still readin’ chapter 37, knowin’
I’m actually going to read the next two chapters instead of skip ‘em
even if the twists aren’t quite so twisty ‘cuz the nipples are already gone
I can see the crooks and zigs and zags comin’ now
off in the not-so-distant distance
but I’m either just too fuckin’ stupid or too lazy or too numb
to skip ahead
or maybe it’s that piece-of-shit Time-Space Continuum deali-o

I look across the table and see that smile on Her face as She’s readin’

it fills me with empathy,
fuck,
I was smilin’ at that part, too
I was grinnin’ ear-to-ear to the ear of every little love-lie
who would push up against me just to get a little closer to hear me
whisper all my dreams and wanton desires and tell ‘em
sweet SWEET candy-coated lies –
damn, there sure were a lot of willin’ listeners – especially those pussies
still reading Chapters 18 through 29,
they’re real eager listeners, wink wink –

She’s there now, leadin’ those cats into the darkness ...
if She would only skip ahead, there,
at the end of that chapter, and avoid the titty twist it’d all be golden
it’d be sunshine and rainbows and puppy dogs
it’d be a cup of hot chocolate in front of a fireplace on a cold, cold snowy day
but She won’t
She’ll lick her thumb and Her lips and hungrily flip the page
right into it, up-to-her-eye-balls into it
fill Her lungs with the blood and the feces and the jism and the tears
“boo hoo hoo
what am I going to do”
She’ll say
“boo hoo hoo”
not a goddamn thing, I already know,
She’ll be royally –
I mean as in Queen-of-the-Universe-of-Screwed –
screwed

'cuz lover-boy’ll be mid-lif’n it his own bad self
She hasn’t figured out yet that he’s a speed reader,
a couple chapters ahead of Her
despite when he picked up the damn book
he skims, babe, he glosses
but he’ll hit that part and it’ll suck him in,
just as if he was puttin’ his cock in a warm wet ho ho ho hol-e-o

shiiiit,
I gotta laugh at the comedy of it all
the fuckin’ repetition of life,
the redundancy, the stupidity, the arrogance with which we read it
thinkin’ we understand it or that it’s soooo predictable,
like GOD ain’t some evil bitch writer

shiiiit,
I already know that those twists I think I see,
those zigs and zags I think I can predict,
fuckin’ diversions, bro
fuckin’ diversions, sis
literary tactics
kinda like this not-so-fuckin’-coded message to all of you,
you love-lies

don’t forget to wipe your ass after you deposit your self-esteem,
your self-worth, the ideals-you-thought-didn’t-matter
in the crapper
go ahead and flush
it ain’t like you’re gonna fish ‘em outta there at this point anyway
just flush and say bye-bye pretty-little-lovely-little-gorgeous-little piece-of-me

fuck,
hey, you,
yeah, you motherfucker,
the one that just finished Chapters 40 through 50,
or who’s at least pluggin’ along somewhere towards the end of that section,
can you help a brother out here
fuckin’-throw me a bone, Sir
throw me a fuckin’-bone, Mam

ouch, that hurts, doesn’t it – Sir, Mam –

which pages, which Chapters, are worth the read
which should I just skip
is the twist as obvious as it looks from here, you know, from Chapter 37
does that vaginitis-infected-cheese-oozing cunt –
(it happens when you spend that much time fucking people) –
GOD, have a morsel of mercy in her tiny little pea-sized heart –
(yeah, GOD is a he-she, a hermaphrodite, a dick-ass-cunt-fucker) –
or is it all cat-playin’-with-the-mouse from here on out

shiiiit,
what’s that, you’re gonna make me read it all
just ‘cuz you need the laugh
fuck,
it’s like goddamn Greek Week with the hazin’ in full swing

well then, Sir, Mam, can I ask you a favor
it ain’t for me
it’s for Her,
yeah, Her, that One I was tellin’ you about
the One-I-got-it-for-soooo-bad
the One that keeps me from sleepin’
even though She’s not in my bed
or my arms,
the One whose always there,
inside my head while I’m somewhere else, forgotten
the One who’s a-page-flip-or-two away from the collapse
yeah, you know, Her,
that’s the One,
well, when She falls, would you do me a solid, Sir, Mam,
would you pick Her up and dust Her off and tell Her lies
about how it’s gonna be all right, alright
‘cuz I don’t think I’m gonna be around for that,
I think I gotta read a different book,
this one’s just too painful, and unlike you, I ain’t laughin’

------
~Drake Lightle

All rights reserved.
drakelightle@comcast.net


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Comments

The following comments are for "Obsession, it's not just a cologne by Calvin Klein anymore"
by DeletedUser

"a real tit grabber..."
T'was that alright...

I wanted to write a companion piece to this, starting off with something like "Count yourself lucky oh mother-constant-f***king-humbug reader, some of us started with the epilogue and worked backwards..." but it's best for all concerned if I don't. ;)

Parts of this revel in rage, parts are painful with pathos and all of it is driven by a mad, maddening desperation that makes me catch my breath. Aye, some of it rambles, but that's the point, right? 'Cause, unfortunately, there's no cliffnotes version of life/love and we have to deal with this shit complete and unabridged... which isn't a good feeling...

'Kay so, I could rant about this all day but that ain't healthy. will return when less pished...

great stuff.

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: January 3, 2007 )

Obsession
I have to agree with Shannon on some parts of this.I like this for the ranting and it is written well.Ranting cleans the soul at times.
We all have been there at one time or other.thanks
for this

( Posted by: wanda [Member] On: January 3, 2007 )





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