sorry, Kate
by c.w. williams
Posted to Poetry on 2003-11-21 12:48:00
Look,
I know
I told you
that I just wanted to be
friends,
but
sorry, Kate –
you drive me to drink.
The way
you talk
to someone you’ve just met,
calling them
by their first name
as if
you’ve known them forever:
Waiters
bartenders
zoo-keepers
my mother.
When we’re out
in public,
making a spectacle
of yourself by talking loud,
expecting that
everyone
gives a shit
what color you
paint
your bathroom.
It all
suffocates me,
to the point where
I can’t stand you
anymore.
And I feel
guilty
because. . .
You’re a nice person –
Someone I’d help
with a flat tire
on the side of the road.
But not
someone I’d drive
to the gas station.