This post is dedicated to

the love of my last month ago who could not be bothered to call me back because he was busy loving the bottle.

Rhymes with...

(complains
explains
insane
in flames)

I thought, because perhaps I am too selfish, that I could impress. But distress! I did not try to seduce. I was only being honest and then

then I sang a song to him while he was digging a ditch in the dirt. I said, hey you! Man in the tattered tweed suit, you sweet boy you! I'm going to sing you a song with this here toy piano and he said okay but I'm gonna dig this ditch. Then I said, well I'm gonna sing it anyway (I'm so nervous, so nervous) and I sang:

If I was the Grand Canyon I'd echo everything that you say
but I'm not, I'm only me. Remember you loved me that way.

while he dug his ditch.

And then I said, would you go out on a date with me? Would you call me after work? And he said yes and kissed(!) me. And he said yes! that he would call me and that he felt very special to have a girl sing to him. And then I was excited to see fireworks later that night with him.

And then I waited for a call that never rang. I turned my phone off after a while. I watched fireworks exploding over the river.

The phone hadn't rung.
repeat repeat. He never bothered to call me back. Really he hasn't called me back since then. I even asked him out other times and he said yes, I'll call you, and then didn't. And then I thought

(...)

There is a woman sneezing

in the reading room. I am convinced that she is faking it. She sneezed, it was a distinctly girly sneeze, I can tell you that. Dainty as a mouse's fart. Now she's blowing her nose. Actually it would be for the third time in a row now that she is blowing her nose. It sounds like an elephant sitting on a whoopie cushion.

Who is she sneezing for, that slut? Who exactly does she think she is, doing that in my library?






this post is dedicated to Thomas Bernhardt.