Thursday, August 25, 2011

Bartholomew

You gave me your blessing
and a promise of fair weather.
I gave you head
in an empty bathroom stall.

Bartholomew

May the saints preserve us
like little jars of pickles
stacked against the cellar wall.

I chased the end of summer
playing guitar for the folkies.
You got a steady job
selling Nikes at the mall.

Bartholomew

I know you don't deserve this,
but I've met a pretty singer,
and I've promised her the fall.

We left with your blessing
and a warning about the weather
and a brand new pair of Nikes
I shoplifted from the mall.

Bartholomew

I wish you could come with us,
and if you're ever down in Katy,
promise me you'll call.

13 comments:

Lazidaisical said...

Superb! Love the restless quality of their aspirations and sexuality!

Fireblossom said...

...and then Batholomew went on to become the patron saint of librarians. (that's what you get for befriending a Catholic bookworm)

I love the stories you tell in just a few lines. I like the pickles, though along with the, um, romantic locale, it all seems awfully impersonal until the "I know you don't deserve this, but..." You make us like these characters, then they blow away to whatever came next.

G-Man said...

You and Alanis Morrisette...

happygirl said...

I liked this so much. Well, maybe not the bj thing, but I loved the shoplifting line. :)

Daydreamertoo said...

LOL Tell it like it is! ;)

Heaven said...

I like your stories...Happy day~

ayala said...

cool story!

libraryscene said...

this is so fun... must be sung, do you? Really dig the imagery of the pickled saints in the cellar ~

Evelyn said...

"May the saints preserve us
like little jars of pickles
stacked against the cellar wall."

Evelyn said...

love that!!

little hat said...

Very funny. Very cheeky. and so well structured. Love your stuff.

Sharon Rose said...

Restless that is the theme. Enjoyed!

unsungpoet said...

Great story, great style!