Tigertarkla In Your Place

A walk through my mind, oh, we're jogging now, wait is that a couch, I'm going to lie down for a bit

Paul and Minta

These are poems I wrote about a fictional couple, Paul and Minta. I wrote one poem about them and it kind of grew into a whole collection. You can find all the poems in the series posted here. I will update the page when I post new ones.

 

One:

[I didn’t notice the haircut]
When she’s mad at me
She rolls her eyes at everything I say
Like she rolls her hips
When she wants me to
Put hands on her
Like a reverent worshipper of the goddess

Because she thinks whatever I say
Is stupid, when she’s upset
Because the me that I am
Isn’t the me in her head
Where I am apparently like
Super fucking fantastic cool

She can say she loves me
With lips pursed like a nun’s
Eyes snapping like rulers across
Bare knuckles of naughty students
And I have a hard time believing her
Since her words hiss off her tongue

Water on a hot skillet, hopping
The lie refusing to lay still
Like we do on golden Sunday mornings
Wrapped in a cocoon of light cotton
When I am not in exile to the rocky island
Of the cold brown leather couch

Two:

We are getting rid of
The brown leather couch
Whose arms have become worn
And whose springs are beginning to show

On the bottom of the left cushion
There is a South America shaped hole
Where Bobby, our poodle, chewed
When we left him home alone
As punishment for our abandonment

It still smells like tequila
From that time we had that party
To celebrate Cinco de Mayo
Though neither of us are Mexican

And there is a me shaped groove
Worn into the stuffing
From all the nights spent there
When you were too mad to be next to me

We have regulated this bunch of memories
Out onto the curb with yesterday’s garbage
Looking forlorn as an abandoned Labrador
Who has been nothing but loyal to us

I watch as a stranger’s pick-up
Pulls up and two men get out
To wrestle our beginnings into their truck

I want to yell out, “Be careful!
The back foot is a little loose”
From when we moved from that tiny apartment
To this too big house in the suburbs
Where I dropped it on the sidewalk
And you laughed at me from the porch

They strap it down with bright yellow ties
And I watch the first place we made love
Disappear around the corner
Till you tell me to come away from the window
And sit down on the pale blue microfiber sectional
Which has just joined our newly minted family

It is as uncomfortable on my back
As the name “father” is to my ears

 

 

Three:

“I am going to write you,
A poem”

She declares this
From the top of the stairs
Like a literary Napoleon
Ready to conquer the poetry frontier

When she fails to get
A rise out of me
She storms off
Presumably to beat on her keyboard
And muster the troops

And I begin to think that
This probably won’t work
I’m too old fashioned and believe
Only one poet can thrive
In relationships

 

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One thought on “Paul and Minta

  1. Pingback: Paul and Minta: Three | Tigertarkla In Your Place

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