where are you?

I come so close to pewking it up forever
sometimes
and when I get that close–
hot flashes along the neck and ears, skin
burning
gut aching to spit out the soul
me staring down into the toilet bowl
while on my knees
sacrificial chunk of gamble
I get thoughts
like:
I should have stuck to that one
who gave the whole thing to the
communist party,
I should have become a vegetarian and
played the stock market,
I should have studied the violin and
attended ballet,
I should have been kinder to my
executioners;
but there’s never the thought:
that woman was right
or all the women were right
I should have listened to their
words.

it’s when I get that close
that I begin to grin.
bitches, I think, looking down
into the bowl,
you were so busy talking
that you never listened to
me.
and
where are you now?
attending to the foreskin of a
headless stallion.

I flush
stand up
turn out the light
find
the bed.