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This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue... Down in the Dirt magazine (v081) (the April 2010 Issue) This is also available from our printer as a a $7.47 paperback book (5.5" x 8.5") perfect-bound w/ b&w pages

Order this writing in the book (bound) Down in the Dirt poetry edition		order the 5.5" x 8.5" ISSN# book order the 8.5" x 11" ISBN# book

unfortunate thin ankles

Derek Richards

she got married because of the mustang
she loves that fucking car, you know?
they have a kid it’s gonna look like a mustang

amy stole some carrots from the fruit stand
so we’re making carrot soup with a shot of irish whiskey
once best friends with my high-school sweetheart,
amy makes no attempt to hide her agenda
despite being overweight i notice she has thin ankles
maybe if i could sign her up at the gym?

when the whiskey is nearly gone, the music softens
candle-light cradles her face in a flattering haze
as we kiss she purrs slowly with a baritone hum
it’s easy to imagine a mustang prowling the streets

at least he’s got something, i mean what do you have?
dreams ain’t gonna buy me the diamond i want
you’re so lost in fantasyland you never even noticed, did you?
where the hell did you think i was last weekend?

inebriation and sex are heartbreaks peanut butter and jelly
at their peak they offer a momentary sense of comfort
as this dissipates, reflection arrives armed with knives
sweet perfect girls roaring away into sweet perfect nights
amy slides an arm of dry-sweat across my chest
until she falls asleep i keep my eyes closed, my breath slow
torturing myself with that familiar phone number

it’s not too late, honey, people make mistakes all the time
i’ll get a real job, you get a divorce and we’ll make it work
maybe we can move out to los angeles like you always wanted
i’ll work two jobs if i have to so you can go on auditions

sunrise in a small town promises regret and apologies
the more bruised you are the stronger you crave forgiveness
it’s easy to imagine the lifestyle of an alcoholic
there’s still some soup until the liquor store opens in an hour

amy wraps her arms around my diminishing waist
wanna have a cigarette then get back into bed?
you try to imagine your sweetheart in a wedding dress
wonder if she kept her hair straight, what she wore underneath
i think i’m gonna have some more of that soup
as amy goes to the refrigerator you glance at her ankles

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