Hawaiian Shirts In The Electric Chair by Scott Laudati - HTML preview

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i left her apartment

with nowhere to be

and no home

to hurry to.

her advertising job kept

the work-shift late

and the wake up calls

early.

in between i would show up

on her Eastside

apartment doorstep

with a bottle

of wine.

 

she’s been with people

i know,

people

way cooler than me

but I had an advantage–

i knew their

strategies. I’d seen

them at work,

and I remembered the times

when she was bored

and

i remembered how much

she liked danger

 

what could stand me out

from the rest?

... cocaine

 

i have a friend in newark

she squares up

with a guy. his family

ships the good stuff

in through some fish market or

he’s a port authority cop.

the nights we

got honest enough to share

dealers our noses

were bleeding

and the dog tried stopping

us before

our heartbeats caused seismic shifts

-the details come and go (mostly go)

 

but i crossed the river to jersey,

got the candy

then took the train underwater

and

headed back

uptown

 

she was happy to see me.

she went to the bathroom

i pulled

a mirror off the wall

and cut two

lines. i heard the shower

water go on. i made

the lines

a little bigger.

i

could smell chemical

fruit coming

from under the bathroom door.

i shaped

each line

into

3 quarters of a

heart. they were perfect.

 

with a space

big enough

to

start

and

end

without messing up

the powder

 

she came out

and looked

at my creation.

“What

Is

that?”

“cocaine”

“I don’t want any cocaine. Why am i looking

at cocaine?”

“What says I love you

like our noses

sharing

a dollar bill?”

 

she was angry.

i’d had her all

 

wrong. i went for a walk

while she calmed

down.

how could i get

this girl

to fall for me?

i looked for

a park.

i was going to find a dog park

so i could

steal

her a puppy,

but

a used book store

had a cart

out on the

sidewalk.

i wanted to read something

about failure

but

i didn’t.

i bought a copy of

the sun also rises- for me

and something by sylvia plath- for her

 

she opened the door on the first knock

i handed her

both books.

“why?” she asked.

“i want to build a library with you”

 

we ate pho

and used

our

first two books as coasters

i

don’t

know

if she fell in love with me that night,

but i’m pretty sure

she will