I know you're going to nibble the guy down the hall... at just this moment
your eyes have the same look as the night you told me... I was hungry and
then I wasn't... you went ahead and ordered and I watched you eat... is it
I think I made the decision as I moved you into the new apartment...
I was going to trust you as much as you trusted me... you can't even lift
me to throw me.
You said: Forget about it.
You said: He's gross.
You said: I hate people with red hair.
You would bite me and later we would eat breakfast... I don't like my
stomach feeling this way... everyone seems to yell at me every day all the
time now... I should be mad at you.
You said: Not down the hall, on the third floor.
Your window looks out onto Broadway... or is it his window?... it
was that night after he worked late at the Texaco... we had done it once in
the ass and he wanted to do it that way too... you bit him... he was
pumping gas all day... the only dishes you packed were a bowl, two plates,
five glasses and a bottle opener... it didn't seem like you were carrying
anything... sitting in the car... putting on make-up.
You said: Nibble, not bite.
I can barely lift you, let alone throw you... you just started to yell
at me to eat something... your eyes did the same thing as they do with
me... all my friends told me— Don't move her furniture in there... A wave
of jealous heat passed through me.
You say you were drunk or stoned... it was only one night long... you
don't have any furniture... you say you like to turn the tables on me.. I
decided to eat some pretzels.
I went to knock on his door, just to see... you acted like you didn't
remember where... that little alarm kept going off in my head... decisions,
decisions... you hit my face with your hand... your fist in the air... your
teeth on his chest... traffic moving outside.
You said: He has red hair.
You said: He's an idiot.
A box of your clothes tumbled down the stairs... I was hungry at first
and then you told me... so much yelling and shouting, I can't remember who
from (from everyone involved)... you have a habit of calling me Dummy these
A guy in a bathrobe answered the door... I couldn't tell what color
his hair was... his TV had a pornographic movie showing... I accidentally
broke one of the glasses... the straight salty stick kind, not the twist
kind... my mouth was jealous and bruised.
Sometimes we would eat breakfast and sometimes I'd leave you naked...
when you're nervous it's hard for you to fuck... we used to do it in the
car... then he pulled your hair and bit you.
You ordered something greasy—chicken strips or French fries... you
had a fork, knife, and spoon... you had a half-bag of sugar... a box of
wooden matches and a nutcracker... sometimes a little aggression can help
you relax... I took off my glasses and things got blurry.
How are your chicken strips—or French fries?
You lay on your new bed... the guy wore a hat and his robe was
loose... I couldn't tell how fat, or old, he was... you don't have a TV but
there are magazines in your bathroom... if you were so drunk or stoned why
do you remember the biting?
I wanted to eat some of your chicken strips or French fries... I don't
like my stomach feeling this way... his hat had the name of a gas station
on it... I get so used to the noise... it really doesn't bother me anymore.
He said: Forget about it.
He said: Down the hall.
He said: Magazines in the bathroom.
My ears burn in all directions (I am the subject of conversation)... a
voice in his room says "You feel so gooood."... and then the chicken
strips... I wish I could throw you further... your underwear spilled out
onto the stairs... I called him an idiot.
You had an annoying alarm clock I dreaded waking up to... you took off
all your clothes... your back bones stood out... you hugged your knees...
he pulled your hair and bit you... you were drunk or eating French fries...
If you threw me off a bridge would you trust me more?... a hot wave
passed though the room... I told all my friends that we were in love... I
mean, I keep seeing your eyes do that thing... like when I talk in your
ear... like when you point to your ear and say: Right here.
He says he wants it in the ass... I made a decision to fuck you in the
ass... sometimes you bite me... it was like I did all the moving and you
just sat there... the rearview mirror... your lipstick... he smelled like
gasoline... I recalled my affection for gas fumes as a child... idiot...
dummy... I took off all my clothes... I used to want to work at a gas
station... all my friends told me I made bad decisions... all my friends
eat breakfast with me.
I made a decision to throw your alarm clock out the window... I'll buy
you another one... all the traffic outside... do you trust me?