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check, please…

he asked if i
wanted dessert
my smiling lips declined
explaining
that i am saving room
for sins left
uncommitted

Categories
Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

an impromptu exit on 55th street in Chicago

every staircase
we climbed together
led to hell

or an inferno above a thai restaurant

he had the repulsive habit
of loudly blowing his nose at each public table
at which we were seated
once clearing out an entire candle lit section
of a romantic friday night bistro
with his cloth napkin terrorism

he seemed to know he should excuse himself
but i could see that sadistic twinkle
in his eye
enjoying the disgust he inflicted

that was the point
when the southern lady i am
could tolerate no more
of the incessant rudeness

despite his massive talents
being a troll is unbecoming
even for a poet

i snapped up sharply
grabbing my clutch
snarling through clenched teeth
“You vile pig, why don’t you just take a shit on the table?”
storming toward the coat check girl
and my better sensibilities
regarding acceptable etiquette

an impromptu exit
on 55th street in Chicago

i disappeared from his life
in an old checkered yellow cab
never again to return
not even a phone call