There was no one else <br />sleeping it off in the gutter, <br />face bathed in perspiration <br />vomit and a bluish tinge, <br />and YOU, up-yourself- <br />stiletto-heels platinum blonde, <br />what the hell gives you the right <br />to avert your mascara eyes <br />looking instead, at the Mercedes, <br />parked down Robson Street, <br />at the European News Kiosk, <br />hoping, expecting the best <br />of Vancouver, to pick you. <br /> <br />What about ME, purple face, <br />liver failure, dandruffitis, <br />athlete's foot and scabies, <br />why not, I ask you, Sir, <br />why can't you save me <br />from what all these frigging <br />Salvos said was certain death? <br /> <br />I've hurt no human beings, ever <br />and I would never hurt the likes <br />of you, with your shaved legs <br />and hairless pussy, and the lot <br />of modern day shenanigans. <br /> <br />I do not mean to be without respect, <br />and only want to have the glory of <br />a fleeting second of your life <br />to share, without your knowledge. <br /> <br />No one will ever know, or guess <br />but when I go, clutching my pink Madeira <br />I would have had just one more moment of <br />what you will treasure in your days <br />and all your nights, your knowing eyes.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/knowing-eyes/
