Two Elegies
#215
“The girl in the black
dress is rich.
He’s famous. Are they
doing it?
I doubt it. You have to
understand—
no one’s getting any
these days. Yeah—
come see us Friday.”
That’s where
the tape in her head
ends, as it is Friday night,
and she’s going nowhere
near those
gaming sons of bitches.
She forces
herself to vomit up an
ice-cream
cone. She sends a
one-liner out to one
of her text-lists— she’s
wearing a black
dress in her soul. She
has no initials.
#431
They sit at the same pub
on Limekiln
Pike and reminisce. Have
they ever
wondered how he feels?
They don’t
realize he’s driving
past, and looks in
and sees them there. He
still wants in,
and pretends not to. The
sun set over
his family, always, that
he has some
where to go, but he
doesn’t: he just
likes to drive. The old
crew, the popular
girls of ’95, are just as
senseless, as
they drive their minds
backwards, he
thinks. He’s still a
virgin, and desperate.
The business works the
same everywhere.
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