Un-ruined Whiskey

Un-Ruined Whiskey

A woman in a bar asked me not too long ago what I wanted
And I looked up from my whiskey and responded curtly and perhaps too brashly that I wanted to be in love
Well, she said flirtatiously, then let’s go find you a girl
And I said that I didn’t mean that I wanted to find a girl
You can find a girl anywhere
Looking around the bar
Standing on the train terminal
Peeking out from the curtains at that boutique on Prince St
Letting her dog walk her through the park
Scaling up the windows on the Flatiron Building
Shivering under a rock
I told her that the finding wasn’t the hard part
I wanted to be in love
And that was the crux of the whole thing anyway because
To be you have to fall
And the hard part is the falling
Because to fall means to be caught
Or not caught
And floors are cold
And I’ve slept on floors before
So the falling has to be done right
And the catcher needs to be ready
And she needs to be willing
And she needs to be funny and beautiful and charming and smart and ambitious but not too ambitious and nurturing but also rock-like so that she keeps me guessing and also the correct height
And then I have to be all those things to her but in the weighted order that she likes and I don’t know what order that is until I’m in the thick of the fall
And AGAIN floors are cold
And who knows what weather patterns are moving through the area
Or what phase the moon is in
Or whether I’ll be allergic to her dog
Or whether I’ll think her dog’s name is stupid and then have to hold in that thought until I can’t and then I tell her at just the wrong time, which’ll seem like the right time to me at the time, and it will be during a fight and then we’ll be gone from each other and then months later my evening whiskey’ll be ruined when my buddies thinks it’s a good idea to tell me what he heard which is that she’s been slutting it up and I like my evening whiskey and I don’t want it ruined
So after a minute to stop and think
But mostly to sip my whiskey,
I un-brashly said to the woman in a bar that the finding isn’t the hard part, the falling is, and the whiskey-ruining is the tragic by-product and I’d be very much happy to just go back to the whiskey I have right now and enjoy it and not ruin it’s future brother with any falling in love
What I really want is my whiskey un-ruined
Thank you very much.

More: Poetry



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