Mermaid in Texas

That's not what you do.
Yes it is.
You'd have got in trouble for it and wouldn't be sitting here right now.
Well I am.
I don't believe it and I can't be convinced and I'm not some dumb hick just 'cause I'm from this part of Texas.
I didn't say you were a hick.
You did kinda say it.
It doesn't matter to me what you think and I only told you because you said I couldn't top your story about the mermaid which, I must say, does not hold water.
I saw what I saw.
You saw a mermaid in Texas?
I most certainly did and you can't prove I didn't.

But you can't prove you did.

That's the same as your story and there's no one to vouch for you.
Of course there are, only dozens of girls.
Then tell me again how you do it.
You don't remember what I said?
I remember just fine but I don't take the word of a stranger in a bar the first time.
If you say so.
I do say so.
Like I said I call for room service and when it arrives I look through the peep hole and if it's a woman and she's not too ugly I take off all my clothes and open the door naked.
Totally naked?
Buck and brightly so, in my birthday suit.
And that's how you get girls?
Half the time they smile and then I smile and invite them in, but if they don't smile and they get  scared then I tell them I just woke up and hadn't realized I wasn't dressed--I'm a great and convincing apologizer--but those room service girls are always so willing and grateful.
Well you told it just the same so maybe I shouldn't doubt you as much.
And the mermaid?
Well she couldn't be anything else and she's all I got.
Then, sir, I shall allow you possession of your water nymph.
My what?
Nothing, good man, nothing at all.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Image: Sabine Baring-Grould

Woman and Guitar

My new guitar smells like an
Exquisite woman.
Perhaps she is one,
A woman,
Only a bit less lovely and
Soft where it matters.
But the fragrance,
The glue, the wood, the lacquer,
Intoxicating.
I will do almost anything for her,
To preserve the aroma as long as possible,
Keeping the rosewood beauty tucked safely
Inside its luxurious cushioned hard shell case
So it, too, absorbs and
Memorializes the factory tang.
Still, despite my drunken attachment to her,
She is certainly not a woman,
Though I will ply my lover with it and so achieve
Glory.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012

Photo by Poemfix

Dueling Memories

When I was nine
The girl with freckles and straight brown hair
From across the street
Said if I showed her mine
She would show me hers.
I wasn't sure what that meant
But I sensed it was
Naughty and exciting.
We exchanged peaks in the pool
Where splashes and ripples
Obscured everything.
This is what I think about now,
The girl, her challenge, the water
And I wonder where she is,
If she is happy,
How satisfied she is with where life has delivered her and
How often she's been in love.
Is it possible she thinks about the
Strangely shy boy in his bathing suit and,
If so, is it a memory of
Nostalgia or regret?

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo by Sergiu Bacioiu

Bra Strap

He lifts his head and
Eyes his girlfriend
Who wants to be his wife,
But he's not there yet.
She has her back to him.
She senses his glance.
He's looking at my ass.
Not quite.
He's gazing at the swivel of her hips, true,
But a loose bra strap is what
Catches his eye.
It somehow defines her
And everything he admires and
Desires.
She figures it out,
Shrugs and straightens her blouse.
The bra strap disappears and
Along with it
His optimism.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012