About understanding

Rosie was a mamas girl
and a papas girl
from a
family of eight

sharp as a razor and
determined to win
everything;
tough as a bullwhip,
with her life in order and
healthy career goals
and
a good catholic upbringing

This was
before the rediscovery
of vileness and alcohol and
that cold words undress them better
than praise
but
I was drifting
in those directions
and my words already wore
the bullshitter’s mantle and the ribbed
condom (for pleasure) and the fool’s
hat and
my balls were dice
with one chance in 36 of getting laid

We met at the zoo, where the bars
kept her just out of reach
for my nihilist zebra
and my horny monkey
and the dingo that you cannot
train because it turns
on you
and she said:
‘Anton, you are full of shit’
and it meant
‘I get it, and maybe there’s love’