Monday, July 14, 2014
Just Like That
-I’m outa gas with all my stupid lines, and fixated on Delly.
-Delly! That Strawberry Blonde? No dirty male sock has hit
the floor of her apartment in many a year.
-Has she swung the other way?
-She swings no ways. Done. Finito! Case closed, as we say
in the trade.
-It’ll take the cleverness that has fled me.
-The bullshit you mean.
-If you will. I’m done, you’re right.
-How about your self? Not much of a commodity but what you have.
-She’s a beauty. She’ll laugh.
-Laughing is halfway there. Seriously, how about a direct approach
where you tell the truth? “Just the facts, Ma’am.”
-How...can you recognize...?
-Trust yourself! You’ll be giving evidence as to your physical and
-I hardly think much of the person you’re referencing!
-Humility. She’ll eat that up! Go under her window like Romeo.
-So, get under her window and...?
-Not much of that in my family.
-How about moaning?
-I can do moan.
-And when she opens the window...!
-Throws open the sash, in poetry.
-Very well! Tell her it’s urgent that you speak to her!
-What if she says no?
-That’s when you must sustain.
-Say anything! Keep the babble up to wear her down.
-What if I wear down?
-You can’t! Hafta get up to that apartment!
-For the male sex?
-Screw the rest, for yourself!
-Okay I’m up there. What...?
-Tell her you can’t live without her!
-The truth again? That’s tough for somebody who...
-Forget all that. A New Dawn!
-But...you’re...half kidding, yes?
-Just half. It’s the cop in me. Lotzaluck!
-I just might fool you.
He had been watching before clerks opened the stores
on Church Street. Chief thought a rash of vandalism
could spread there from the surrounding neighborhoods.
His friend flew by in his red Mitsu convertible, scarves
flinging back from a strawberry blond.
The Lieutenant’s champagne-fueled Wedding Speech has so
many cynical asides from a bed of mush, his wife gestures
for him to sit down.
That, the second shot; the first being his friend succeeding.
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