the evening of my date

with luscious Gail

the zit on the tip of

my huge Shylock schnoz

exploded like

the cream-filled center

of a Barricini chocolate

and left an angry slash

across my face

that was Rudolph writ large

but without the sleigh

 

I patched the damage

best I could

with a 2 by 2 of gauze

and prayed for

a quick and painless death

on the tracks of the

Astoria line

 

Gail peered at the

sad masked stranger

in the peephole

and reluctantly let me in

 

it’s nothing just a scratch

I shrugged

old lady on the IRT

two punks grabbed her purse

I fought them off

but not before

they broke your nose

oh Arthur

 

I leaned my head against

her cashmere breasts

and studied the dimple

on her chin

while she fed me

dates with marzipan

dulce de leche

scoops of Häagen-Dazs

the foods that I liked best

the ones that gave you zits

 

(originally published in Twisted Endings)