I Brought Lettuce... (A love poem)

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An apology. The audio that accompanies this piece has an unfortunate problem of loud background noise for the later part of it. I would have rerecorded it, but every attempt to do so lost the emotion contained in this take. So sorry about the noise, try and let it not distract you.



Hey baby- sorry, killer,
How’ve you been keeping?
Have they treated you well?
Let you out from time to time?
You know how I get to worrying
Sometimes.

I still remember, you know
The day we first met.
I was an international communist
Working at McDonalds
You were a Germanic prostitute
Wondering why you had no clients.
I don’t know what first drew me to you
Perhaps the studded leather armor
Or the uzi cruxed under your arm.
Still, something drew me,
Besides the tow rope
But of course you knew that,
And I said, “That President McKinley,
What a card” And you said
“Yeah, and he makes a mean sandwich.”
I think it was then that I knew I was in love.

And our first date, at the park
God, you were so beautiful in
Your kitten suit and green fedora.
Remember how we sat next to the bench
Just staring into each other’s eyes
And trying to figure how to
Unbolt it from the ground.
And for dinner we had ice cream
And you whined because they didn’t have
Green mice and telephone flavor
And I laughed and said
“Why are pants so insidious?”
And you said, “The fuhrer pants
Rules them on his secret evil island.”
I still remember that on the cold nights.
It helps a little.

And you of course remember the wedding.
We had a Satanist priest shipped in special
And invited the entire city of Dallas
Then we both overslept and went to Denny’s
Only to break in late at night
And marry ourselves in secret.
I remember how I said,
“Love is goat sex.”
And you kissed me and said
“But it tastes nice anyway.”
Those were true words of love.
Possibly the only ones this world
Will ever hear.

And I remember how you were there afterward
When my father disowned me, screaming,
“Lad, she’s fucking crazy.”
And I said through bleeding mouth,
“She’s the only one who’s sane.”
And you said nothing,
Just understanding and protecting me
Feeding me with a spoon
Doing yoga in that preoccupied way of yours
As I healed my wounds.
You didn’t speak until I could tango
And said, “Sanity is overrated.”
That was the first time I cried, you know.

Speaking of which,
I know we don’t talk about the kid
But I want you to remember
That it wasn’t your fault.
No one could have predicted the avalanche
Or the forest service using a chainsaw.
I tried to stop them,
But you know how well that worked.
I wish I could have said to you then
“Mind control would be fun at parties”
Instead of watching you weep
Then you could have laughed and said
Under a trembling half-smile
“But what of the urchins,
Surely they need tea.”
And I could have held you close.
I’ve regretted that every day since, you know.
I regret that still.

And then there was-
There was that day.
Freak rugby accident they told me
But I knew the truth,
You’d guarded too well against those.
The worst part is, well beside the obvious,
I don’t know if you had time to flip
A comment, a last word to the world.
Perhaps, “Birth is egg salad” or
“Commie whores represent.”
No, that wouldn’t be you, would it?
You’d just toss your hair
Smile and topple over like it was nothing
You always had that strength.
I didn’t. I beat myself with the Device
For a month for not being there, not stopping it,
Not building a revenge-obsessed cyborg out of the tea cozy.
You would have wept to see me then.

It’s hard you know.
I keep wanting to say,
“Wherefore art thou, Colonel Donut?”
Or “Shall I floss madame’s pubic hair?”
So that you could giggle and say,
“I am not the fish casserole you think I am.”
But I know that you can’t
Because it isn’t all right
And the sun won’t rise again
And make pink the new yellow.
There I go again, forgetting.
I even brought you Mao’s
Little red book
As if it was merely Valentine’s Day.
I’ve done a lot of that lately
Like printing the word we created together
Above you.
“Comminihilism”
I thought it summarized everything up
That needed summarizing.
Still,
I miss you Killer
Every damn day
And I don’t think
It’s every going to get any easier.
Because we-
Because.
And all I can do now is remember.
Remember
Because.

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1.0
Lucifer_Carroll
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  • COMMENTS
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6 Comments
LeBrozLeBrozabout 17 years ago
~~

A psycho love story?

Aurora BlackAurora Blackalmost 18 years ago
Intense

Loved the poem, loved the voice. Congratulations. :)

AnonymousAnonymousabout 18 years ago
awesome

truely inspired, I have never heard anything like this before

impressiveimpressiveover 18 years ago
Oh, my

You are one very unusual individual, L_C. What a bizarre read. Kudos for originality! ~Imp

logophilelogophileover 18 years ago
Loved it.

Anyone who has longed to find someone to see into their soul will find this poem sitting in their gut for some time after. Thank you, Luc.

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