kumquats and karaoke

there was a karaoke machine

i don’t have a voice that sings

from the fruit plate i grabbed a date

took a bite to delay my fate

 

she insisted i sing her a song

this date had gone seriously wrong

with a kumquat i sought reprieve

she told me she refused to leave

 

until i grabbed the microphone

the crowd coalesced with their phones

i hoped no one paid attention

or afterwards had retention

 

i choose “the things we do for love”

no one released a thousand doves

or offered me a record deal

afterwards a beer helped me heal

 

forcing me from my comfort zone

is something for which she is known

for the ladies’ room she excused

upon a napkin she had used

 

i penned a poem infused with rhyme

all within the allotted time

a woman spends within bathrooms

and within the chair she resumed

 

she read,

 

‘with open eyes i’m satisfied

with the beauty you have inside

that covers me till all i see

is how much you are into me

 

and with your heart makes me apart

of having you as a sweetheart

until the climes within my rhymes

are winterless in the sunshine

 

with eyes of green with which you’ve seen

the side of me that’s in-between

the poet prosing in my past

that only made me an outcast

 

and recent rhymes wherein i chime

about your beauty in springtime

which makes the flowers bloom and grow

drying tears of weeping willows

till all i think about is this

how i would die just for your kiss’

 

the words were read, she looked at me

batted her eyes and grabbed my sleeve

pulled me close for a sweet kiss

whispered she would remember this

when closed doors found us both alone

if i were smart i’d take her home

 

***