I wish you were the one

08 May



I wish you were the one


I wish you were the one

to be my baby’s mother

the one I share some sweet acrimony with

when it’s all done

and all we have left

are the books you don’t want to return

(either you have my Kundera catalog or it’s truly lost)

a bitter barb or two

a new lover to hide jealousy for like a barbiturate

and all those catechized mistakes

that we achingly try to regret.

I wish you were the one

to make mordant anguish

of the night I still remember

when lyrics hung in the air

like raspy bait for the hopefuls

about a woman like you

that would pick me apart,

making suggestions for my possible heart,

graceful as a new invention

maddening as a new prescription

at an all-night pharmacy bombed out.

I wish you were the one

that I slept for

the one that knew why I was constantly leaving

why it’s hard to write something outside of elegy

why I still drink.

I wish you were the one

that got me into silly arguments

just by playing Smith’s “Waltz # 2”

or something else off XO

and altercating that Elliott was

a lovelier mope than Oberst.

Yeah, I wish you were the one

who made me see

that the fun was behind me

that I was barely held together

by the literary rivets now

that you were always going to be

my languorous and eternal penitence

my nectarous nostalgia

my fatigued contentment,

who’s always quitting smoking

eating microwave burritos late at night

pouting in gentle mockery

adept at finding fault with me.


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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings

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