Goddess of the tavern you were,
Your blond hair set off
By the black uniform worn tight
Against your slender body.
Eighteen and stupid, I thought
I could win you over
With silence and numbskull goodness,
My repertoire featuring mad scribbling
To pique your interest.
Then came the day that beer-chugging lug
Claimed you for his own.
That he could use me as a toothpick
After a greasy meal and then expel me
From his surly mouth was the message
That he sent.It was all forgotten till the other day.
Let me set it straight—aging subway
Straphanger, bearer of the invisibility gene,
Hair turned metallic gray, fends off blonde
More than good-looking with the book
He pretends to read.June 2003