Poem of the Week-Time in A Bottle

The wine bottle slipped from his hand

Outside my condominium.  

My friend saw the shards of glass

Don refused to clean up.

When he entered my condo

For a dinner party that evening,

I asked “Where was the Wine?”

Don said he forgot.

One of the many blood red

Warning signs.

I met Don

because a member of

The Harvey Milk Club

Knew that I was a widower

Since my lover died

6 months ago

Don was a

Smoking hairdresser.

From the moment

I met him

I was stiff.

I could never tell

if someone was my type.

I would be with a man

That had an award- winning smile

 Skin so clear

You couldn’t see

An open pore.

His muscular chest that

An artist would cry for

To be a model.

And a personality

That scooped me

Up into the stratosphere.

All this and

I would be limp.

Don was bald

Had a vanilla face

I didn’t know

I was starved for sex.

Maybe because

 I am a taurus

 In the future

 My friend would tell me,

“Can you imagine

if someone liked ugly guys?

They would have

A wide world of choices.”

I must have introduced him

To my boyfriend of the month

Who fit the Eleanor Roosevelt

plain category

I know

I am being

Politically incorrect

 but I can

blame it

on time

being in a bottle

That never breathed.

Back to Don.

He sliced his finger

Opening a can of food

For his cat.

Couldn’t work

For a month

So, I paid his rent.

I told him,

“I love you”

after a month

The cat assaulted

my allergies.

No sense of humor.

He would tell me,

“When is we going out?

You don’t eats much food.”

I was a snob

Cringed when he spoke

Incorrect English.

I don’t have a sense of smell

but the idea of him smoking sickened me.

And when the time in

my bottle neck


and we broke up

he stalked me.

 On Easter morning

I found a basket of flowers

 candy outside my condo.

 Don called my mother

 “I wants to get back together with Gordon.”

Why this prompt

Created this memory

Is a mystery to me.

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