UNDERGROUND VOICES MAGAZINE/REBECCA LU KIERNAN

REBECCA LU KIERNAN

Jepatio Street, Three
(No Grey Dog)

I take the long way to avoid Jepatio Street
Where we had the terrible accident with our grey dog
That April she crashed through the window
And went flying, bloody and mangled
In slow motion.

I can't recall any words between us.
There must have been something, don't you agree?

We pulled the car over at A.J.'s Restaurant
And ran to our dying love.
We should have put her to sleep, my friend,
Had we any dignity.
God will punish us
For dragging her around,
Making waiters set plates for her,
Having Walter pour her a Guinness at McGuire's in Destin.

Her slow death pulled knots inside us.
It was just so hard to let go.
Sometimes I remember
Toting her severed leg around on ice,
That hopeful look in her cobalt irises
That she might live to love another week,
That we might snap our magic fingers
And erase that bump in the road.

Jepatio Street, Four

I admit, I may have sold your secrets to the Russians
And showed that photo of you with your dick
Sticking out of your flight suit
At parties,
Downloaded all your emails the day before I left,
Let a friend give you the nick-name, "Shit-for-Brains",
Deep-throated seven guys before you,
And maybe once, charged you for sex.

But if you'll come back,
I'll forget how you told me at dinner
The sweet, funny things Girlfriend-on-the-Side
Said that day,
How you barked you couldn't wait to be rid of me
Right before you ate my pussy in the parking lot
Of Indian Lake Bistro.
Come back, I'll make them call you S.F.B. for short,
I'll take that picture off the internet
And remove what's left of your voodoo doll
From the fish tank.
I'll forgive the V.D. and the false identity and even the lice.

Maybe I'll make you another cake
And rub your feet just right
And deep-throat you, 'cause
Baby, I never did that for anybody else.