Waterbed

Holding onto the phone
as I lie on the waterbed
I’m rambling about how I saw
The president walking about
in one falsely lavish hotel from the 80’s
Looking like his old self
Sporting a Hamptons ready outfit
A tuft of chest hair sticking out
Like they preserved him
Except he looks soft; natural
Worst he looks at ease
And for a moment I am suspended
in simulacra
floating through liquid
Maybe he’s a time traveler
I’m a time traveler

It’s late
And I already put the kids to bed
She says
Call me in the morning

*

My friend’s parents
Updated their home
All modern
A hidden away fridge
Minimalist design
Cloud sofa

My parents’ house
is still heavy glass blocks
under brown marble
Fake flowers
Flower sofas
Imitation gold chandelier

There are rubber plants
at the entrance
Make you feel like
The place is about
to have mold growing
under the beige wallpaper
A humidity seems to cover
like taupe plastic sheets
the tv playing
old tapes of us in this house
My parents’ wedding

I’m afraid to knock over
white porcelain cupids
with melting faces

*

In the closet
is still my mother’s
wedding dress
with the puffy sleeves
and the bejeweled turtle neck

Pictures of us
at five. ten. thirteen.
In kitschy frames

I hate these images of us
More comfortable in a museum
of the late century slump

But I’d rather hide here
than in my new paper house
with wobbly, thin furniture
Where the tv blows it away

The first time

She’s lying there
in dark green
In a cherry wood casket
Wearing strong perfume
the mortician picked out
from a plastic bin
and sprayed on her body

I used to cut her hair
Massage her scalp
We talked about
being single
working long hours

She has on
fuchsia colored nail polish
Clashing with the red lipstick
Type of business black heels
that were popular twenty years ago

We went to dinner once
Finally
After two years
of chopping split ends
We tried doing it
in the back seat
But my shirt sleeve
kept getting caught
in the seat belt

You’re the second guy
who couldn’t get it hard for me
on our first time
Are you afraid of me?
She said

Sarah
The fucking cat

Now she’s out here
being looked at
talked to like through a tube

My hands are shaking
They cut her hair short
The wrong kind for her face type

Zero Celsius

I excuse myself from the movie
and rush to the bathroom
to think about how long
it would take to get home
if I left now

Sitting on the toilet seat
I pull out the Marlboros
from the same section
in my purse
where I keep the spare underwear
Six cigarettes left
I smoked twenty in one night
last weekend
Drunk, kept twisting my ankles
Shaking in a dress in zero Celsius
to talk to a hot fire fighter

I’ve looked more romantic with strangers
than with boyfriends
A girl asked to take our picture
Not you.
With the fire fighter
We were kissing like we were in love
Sitting at the only table at the club

I think about the first time
we went to a movie
leaning away from you
disgusted by your little fat hands

I stuff the cigarette pack
into the tampon disposal box
Put lipstick on in front of the mirror
I pout for two minutes
and play with my hair
Who wouldn’t want this?