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Literature, PoetryAlex the 24 year old gives me new age counsel. I like to feel her thighs. I was disconsolate when her breasts didn’t respond to my sucking on them. I can’t stand her arthritic poodle, her poverty, bad luck, her contempt for her employer, and her contempt for other women.
I can like something and if someone else likes it I can lose confidence.
A nice old lady came to my door. I listened to her rigmarole. I wanted her to go. She said she was dying from pancreatic cancer.
I wanted to ask the talkative woman how long she had to live. Instead I excused myself and lowered the toilet seat so my daughter could use it.
How cruel my soon to be ex wife is. She never thinks to invite me to dinner. I think she has revealed my baleful secrets now that she doesn’t have to be shamed by them. It is in her interest to distance herself.
It is September. I have no one to see. I have no employer. I have no ally.
Alex the 24 year old talks to me about astrological signs. She got into astrology after her mother passed. I make sense to her because she is certain that I have an Aquarius rising sign. I’m Sagittarius. It is my sign that makes me direct not as I thought my incisiveness. I’m all water and have nothing to contain me. Alex is the one to contain me. My wife thinks I’m fucking her or someone young and vacuous like her. I don’t know if I’m genuinely into her or if she is a power hungry sociopath who fucks with my head.