i forget to listen
too busy watching wisps of smoke
making shapes
in the empty space
between us
Ghostly tendrils stretch and curl
floating from the cigarette
clenched between her angry
thinning lips
fascinated
i speculate on how it manages to stay there
bobbling about on her pale, dry mouth
appearing to hang on for dear life
while she bitches
and bitches
and bitches
and bitches ...
i make aquick mental note to steal a cigarette
later when she falls asleep
i'm wondering if i can make it dangle too
maybe it's genetic and i carry the gene ...
Meanwhile as i watch one lined, crepey cheek
lifts higher than the other lined, crepey cheek
making her squint while she is yakking
... the cigatette hanging like a weird white growth
hmmm i think...
squinting must keep the cigarette anchored
andit must protect her eyes from those stray plumes
puffing upward from her tar-lined lungs
now fueled by voluminous enunciations
discoursing displeasure
... and they are legion ...
i can't help think ... if she were bald
she could easily pass for popeye's twin ...
her head really is amazingly round
especially when pin-curled into
a tight network of shiny black bobby pins ...
i find her facial contortions
... interesting ...
they give me something else to watch
other than having to stare into her
bloodshot, disinterested, distracted eyes
(did i mention angry?)
... thereby saving me from my least favourite
"no win” confrontations
the one that always leads to trouble
like ...if i look too long she says
“whadaya staring at!”
and if i don’t look it's
“look at me when i'm speaking to you!"
the trick is (i think) in the timing ..
but i get distracted easily and though i try
i always and i mean always ...
piss her off
... i jerk back into the here and now
suddenly realizing i'm getting the “look”
she's stopped talking and is waiting
impatiently for a response
taking a hefty, agitated drag
on her butt as she looks at me
i watch it overheat
the end glowing like a red
cycloptic evil eye
shit, shit, think quick ...
... um .. i’m ... ah.. sorry
really ..i'm really sorry!”
She glares at me ... hard
giving me her "i see through your bullshit" face
i stare back ... carefully
looking away after counting ten precise heartbeats
(just to be safe)
then casually stare into her face again
(concentrating on her mouth)
she resumes talking and I relax
I watch a half-inch piece of ash
hang miraculously from the burning end
it's curved like a piece of macaroni
yet it doesn't fall!
even while she's jawing away like hell
... quite the trick!
i make a private bet with myself
that it’ll fall by the time she says
“ i'm sick to death’ one more time
... uhhuh ...ya here it comes ... I win!
it joins the rest
... ashes to ash
dusting the front of her stained, pink-nylon
sears catalogue housecoat
...“whadaya smirkin at?” she asks
i look into her eyes
this time forgeting to count because man!
i never noticed this before but
her eyes are the exact same color
as that nicotine staining her fingers!
Silver trophy winner
Adding your comment:
this is a tough contest to judge...
