Inventory

Have you taken an inventory of your loves?
Plural.
Which of them comes readily to mind?
Are there those you must ponder to remember?
Our memories are limited
By the moment of desire.
That which seemed love,
A mere channel,
A smokestack.
“I love you.”
No,
I desire you – rather intensely,
I will add.
You churn my butter,
Make my juices flow,
Turn me on.
C’mon, let’s do it,
Preferably to each other.
There,
Does that give you perspective?
Or, what of the real loves,
You know the one sided ones?
Most love is duplicity,
One sided I mean.
Those where you or someone presumed
Couldn’t make the cut.
What’s that line?
“I just don’t think this is going to work!”
Yowsir, yowsir, yowsir, step right up!
You have been dropped.
Clunk!
Or the real prize winner,
“I’ve met someone else.”
Then the codicil,
Wait for it,
“I didn’t mean to hurt you!”
Ahhhhh, perfection!
Damn decent of you, don’t you think?
Damn decent.
That’s called constipated reasoning;
Now put a little quiver in your voice.
Here we go one more time (quiver),
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Hell yes you did!
What you mean is you hope you haven’t screwed up.
Then there is the return
Of the prodigal mattress tester.
Most appropriately a month after,
“I’ve met someone else.”
Ring – Ring – Ring: “Hello.”
“Hey, it’s me. Can I see you; I mean can you meet me at Starbucks?”
“Hell no! Come on over now and strap me on.”
That’s real!
“Haven’t had any since last night, you’ll do!”
Why are we creatures of these habits?
Genetic?
Environment?
Most of our little quips of love
Are learned responses.
We learn them to possess
Excuses for our personal
Deficit gymnastics.
All the psychologists,
All your best friends
Can’t put Humpty Dumpty together again.
You’ve cracked the egg,
Baked your tamale,
Plugged the port,
You are toast.
However,
There is always tomorrow.