“Come
over and see me tonight” Sharon said.
I
said “Okay,” appeasingly.
An
old girlfriend I had left, to journey to California
In
my younger days, back in ’67; I had now returned.
When
I got to her apartment the woman did a strange thing.
Making
no resistance, she held on tightly to my shirt,
I
stood calmly, as she began to scream.
The
scream was hideously compounded by a look of
Fright
and fear, yet her face was neither of fright nor fear.
I
regarded her casually and appraisingly, as if to see what
She
was up to—: then she ripped off her night clothes!
Nearly
naked as a jaybird!
And
I shoved her away, in the doorway to make my
Turnabout
to leave;
Her
screams were merely the cry to the bloke downstairs,
For
help, it was a set up!
“Aw,
shut up,” I said, as she tried to drag me into her
Apartment,
I pushed her off by the shoulders.
The
result being, we rocked back and forth, while she
Went
on screaming. As I could hear a crashing down
The
stairs in the other apartment rushing to her rescue.
The
woman release her grip on me, as she had been
Shoved
back. The bloke, was standing at the end of the stairs.
Ready
to liberate her: tire-iron in hand!
It
was sufficient that he saw the woman
Reeling
back from the archway of the door, screaming,
With
pain that was mainly contrived.
“It’s
all a mistake,” I told the bloke.
And
the man took the tire-iron and swung ponderously:
Put
a dent in my head: I kicked him in the chest,
With
a sledge like foot (I wasn’t
dead yet! That’s all I thought!)
Both
of us off balance: and then his wife came out:
She
emerged as from her doorway, as if from the skirmish.
But
here is the catch: the woman wanted revenge, for
Me
going to California. And I thought then and there, still do:
'Such
lengths a woman will go to for revenge.’
And
for the bloke, his wife divorced him, for his goings-on.
How
do I know? I met him in 1970, three years later,
In
Augsburg, Germany, he was sour drunk, over it all!
He
was in the Army, and we got drunk together
In
the soldier’s club we met by accident for the most part
Until
he noticed who was who (he was
headed for the war in
Vietnam),
and wanted a rematch.
Only thing that came
To
my mind was: ‘Here is poetic justice!’ For had he not
Been
divorced, he would have not got those orders for Nam!
No: 4548 (9-11-2014)
