Humpty Dumpty Sat at a Bar

We sat on the shadow a blue light cast
when I spoke of you last. I spoke of you last,
she spoke of you first, the one you ignored
while cards were laid and vodka was poured.

You said we should see one another, but rare
and I looked for you there. I looked for you there
with a spade in my hand to test with a prick
if the sauce was thin. If the blood was thick.

I gave you the choice and you poorly chose me
although you saw what I saw; why didn't you see
the measure I'd taken to calliper spec:
precisely the shapeof a ship you could wreck.

Her hair is like mine is, curly and red.
Her eyes pierce as deeply, her heel's as well-tread.
Her voice, unlike mine, is a purr of a thing
which I thought you'd adore, you abhor when I sing.

And all of these things I thought that you knew,
but you didn't. You hadn't one-fifth of a clue.
You left all your cards on the table, face down
including the queen with the bloody red gown.

A bare "bye," you said, leaving both girls and bar,
turned on the blues when you got in your car.
But now all of the stitch of vibrato and hymn
lay lack of the muster to glue us again.