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Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Desire

Desire 
by George Bilgere


The slim, suntanned legs
of the woman in front of me in the checkout line
fill me with yearning
to provide her with health insurance
and a sporty little car with personalized plates.

The way her dark hair
falls straight to her slender waist
makes me ache
to pay for a washer/dryer combo
and yearly ski trips to Aspen, not to mention
her weekly visits to the spa
and nail salon.

And the delicate rise of her breasts
under her thin blouse
kindles my desire
to purchase a blue minivan with a car seat,
and soon another car seat, and eventually
piano lessons and braces
for two teenage girls who will hate me.

Finally, her full, pouting lips
make me long to take out a second mortgage
in order to put both kids through college
at first- or second-tier institutions,
then cover their wedding expenses
and help out financially with the grandchildren
as generously as possible before I die
and leave them everything.

But now the cashier rings her up
and she walks out of my life forever,
leaving me alone
with my beer and toilet paper and frozen pizzas.



H/T to Tom H.

8 comments:

  1. There should have been a picture with this story. You know, to help with the visualization...

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  2. Beautiful, but it lost me at the spa/nail salon. That shit is tiresome. I figure it runs me $300 a month for Inappropriately Hot Foreign Wife. Those waxes is wicked expensive.

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  3. Stylish: that´s the kind of writing and subject I like :-) More please!

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  4. Mine didn't walk away from the checkout. Dammit! : ) But I got two beautiful daughters. And a shotgun. And 500 rounds of 00 buckshot...

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  5. I caught her at the door.
    Thirty five years later, our girls have done well, and she has passed on to where she wanted to be.
    I hope to be the man she thought I was, to the wife that thinks I am now. I try.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Skip... That is such a strong and powerful comment. You said so much in just a few words.

    It really hit home with me.

    ReplyDelete
  7. This is good, Damn good. This truly encapsulates the joy, the rush, the happiness, the slow doubt, the fading hope, the beginning of worry, the growing inner emptiness and the pain of realized loss... then the haunting, melancholy memories. Damn good work.

    ReplyDelete

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