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At my sons concert and other poems by Justin Hyde

at my son’s concert

on a little wooden chair
next to my ex-wife
in the auditorium.

we don’t talk much
outside of co-parenting.

but i know
she recently found out
the first man
she’s had feelings for
since we split

is a down-low alcoholic

back at her place
trying to white-knuckle
the shakes.

where are you going?
you’re going to miss the start,
she jumps down my throat
a hundred decibels.

relax
i’m just taking a leak
i’ll find you a xanax while i’m out there
you need it.

she smiles

but when i come back
she’s dabbing tears from her cheek
with a purple infinity scarf.

apparently
i haven’t lost
my special talent

thumping women
square on the heart

with a perfect
turn of phrase.

i’m sorry,
i whisper in her ear.

the lights go down.

the curtain comes up.

i hold
her hand.

 


unknown

there is no ledge
see
she tries hopping over the guard-rail
on the top floor
of the parking ramp
i grab her waist
thin as a greyhound
the universe meets you
where you’re at
that’s the difference
between me and you
she dives under the guard-rail
i clamp my hand
around her forearm
slippery with sweat
and street
we slide the length of mississippi
locking
at her wrist.


the moneyed man

sat at our table

sat
does not do it justice

he was erect
and relaxed
at the same time

in total control
without saying a single word

everyone
even my girlfriend
was flirting with him

they couldn’t help it

his hands were the size of lobsters
he moved them just so
and smiled

everything turned to egg-yolk

i can’t say anything bad about the guy
he wasn’t conceited
or dismissive

he was just taller than me
richer than me

handsomer than me

charming

subdued

canadian accent!

cocksucker
had no flaws

all i could do
was idle roughly
like a jalopy
in his wake.


About the author:

Justin Hyde lives in Iowa. More of his work can be found here.

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1 Comment on At my sons concert and other poems by Justin Hyde

  1. man i’ve been there with a guy like that aint nothing you can do

    Like

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