They meet me at the bar where she and I once met off hours,
the mayor and his handyman who said they would not meet with her or my boss
unless I was there, my boss never telling me, while I tried to mend fences with
our poet and him, she telling me she has no problem with the mayor, when it is
clear she does, she having fallen from his good graces after he and all he
could do to make her feel at home: lunches in her honor and top billing to
perform at his theater.
he looked wounded at
the bar as if betrayed while the rumor mill claims he betrayed her, using her
like tissue as he has all other women before her -- only then do I realize this
has nothing to do with the job; this is a personal vendetta into which I have
stumbled as bad as the birthday wishes I gave she did not want, I will always
be like an insect, hovering in the space between us that keeps from it all
being resolved, and she a ghost I expect will haunt me for an eternity with no way
to be rid of it, only to endure, while I think of the drink she wants offered,
needing it more than ever
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