Perfect

Perfect
7-25-95


I can't believe you touched me.

I just can't believe it.


What would I do, were I to
Believe that it really happened?

Change my view?

Become more accomodating of loss
Than I already am?


No.

No.


You've succeeded in making me feel things
I've never felt before, though I've
Laughed my belly sore,
Loved my dick off, and cried my eyes out
Too many times to count.

I'm sure you have too.....
Except for the dick part.


I can't even begin to express how I feel.

Unless, of course, you'd like me to try.

Kindly Collect Your Belongings

She showed you her act.

And you bought it.

But when the show was over, you wouldn't go home.

You just sat there in that dark theater, staring at an empty stage.



The act was over.

But witnessing the act had made you feel connected.

Such was your need, you confused the act for something personal.

As if you were in the play yourself.



And now you've been running around this big empty playhouse for years,

wishing the show could somehow start up again.

You've embarrassed yourself, checking all the locks and light switches, over and over.



But the show moved on to a new town long ago.

On to captivate new audiences.

You can be sure there will be new drama-starved neophytes dazzled.

New hearts engendered.



But all of that has nothing at all to do with you.

It was a travelling show that you mistook for reality.



Now, please collect your things and kindly leave the theater.


.