glory-hole
hysteria
there is this woman
who phones me from
time to
time
she used to be a good friend
a good woman as well
but now
she is no
longer all together
there
stupified by a broken
marriage
was offered many exits
and chose not a one
was
left
staggering numb under a yoke
of her own design
she will call
me at odd hours
wailing
that she had lost my number
then found it
again
and she is so glad
so glad
to hear from me again
& that
is most
that is all
of what she has to
say
phoning from Death Valley
phoning from the Mariana
Trench
phoning from a black hole orbiting Mars
months go by
and I
think I am
finally free
from her madness
but tonight
of
course
tonight she calls:
hello?
JIMMY KNOWS WHAT A GLORY-HOLE
IS!
well, good for him, I say
he'll never want for
anything
WHAT? JIMMY IS MY TWELVE-YEAR OLD SON!
Oh, I forgot, I
say
I must have been drinking during that part
of your A&E
Biography
WELL JIMMY MY TWELVE-YEAR OLD SON
KNOWS WHAT A GLORY-HOLE
IS!!
okay okay, I say
Jimmy your twelve-year old boy
he knows what
a glory-hole is
you know what a glory-hole is, right?
OF COURSE I
DO!!!
did you find out
when your son told you,
or have
you known since
you were twelve
as well?
YOU ROTTEN SON OF A
BITCH!!!
<click>
the dial tone
sings its beautiful
aria
and I hang it up
forgive me
I am only cruel
to those who
decide to
be cruel
to me
the briars of their
voice
jumping across my spine
like lightning every time
at
least this time
nothing is lost
except
hopefully
my phone
number
once again
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