Out of Water
When I saw you again, I got that "out of water"
feeling, like a Jew at a nazi wedding, or nutloaf
on thanksgiving
kinda strange to be here again, seeing your love
and run-away black hair, cinderella on the stair;
and I mused, that if a flawless-beauty-queen walked
through a plastic surgery clinic, with it's sag-bag
middle-aged customers; she'd feel that way too;
and the apples dropped from the tree where
we first met, all those beers ago; and it seemed
strange and harmless like a pigeon's ghost;
and my eyes follow your hitched-up skirt and
my wallet your check, (and the new guy who's
paying,) all the way up to the gargoyles, and you,
Esmeralda; playing your hunch.
I'm out of jokes, now is not the time, and I
swim away, from the ridiculous, the sublime.
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