Fighting Irony: entry

Her and Him / Bipolar Beauty / Creative Promises

Well hell
There goes my day
Her and him blocking the sidewalk cafe
Wearing: promise rings, skinny jeans
His cheese plate breakfast, her morning macchiato
too pretentious for rhyme.

If that wasn’t enough to lose the Muse
Bipolar Beauty to their left
Still incredulous about that night
back at her place, too much tequila, a
Frenetik: (Middle English, insane)
discussion of Who had What, Where
And how do we how can we get some?
Like, Now!
End Result: taxi tour to the ER
Panic attacking my heart
Thought: what a way to go brother
Here lies a man; died of a one night stand
and a single line of powder
too innocuous (for her) to name.

And Him: so exhausting.
Feigning ignorance, indifference, idiocy
Every sentence a question he knows the answer to
Or does he? He doesn’t.
Grading he on the same curve as she
Only Curve that Matters:
the small of her back,
the way she fits a simple black v-neck.

Man, I
Can’t wait to get to those pearly gates
God standing there
A scroll as long as Manhattan
Title: “Creative Promises”
With open arms, say
What about these?
Take your time son.
Money? Never heard of it.
Muse? Greek Mythology bullshit.
He (God) will chuckle
Yes, my boy, you can watch her now,
getting undressed, prepping for sleep, alone
Knowing: she knows.
But hey, you’re dead now (Thank God)
So it, you’re Watching: more nostalgic, than creepy.