Monday, March 25, 2013

At A Club In L.A. With A Woman From Belgrade When I Was A Prick

                                   Friendly looking sort in the Nevada desert

This tall pale woman was swirling across the floor
She was wearing a dress
Nobody wore dresses in clubs in LA
I couldn't peg her accent

She had two names tattooed across her wrists
When I asked about them she told me they were her kids
They were there to remind her what it is she has to live for
Whenever she gets to feeling that she can't go on anymore

I asked her matter of factly
If suicide was a frequent impulse
She replied 
That at one time
She believed
It was 
Her only way
Out

In my head I tried to count all of the tiles that made up the dance floor
I prayed the DJ would cut the song short and play something she hated
Damn 12" release of This Corrosion by Sisters of Mercy was merciless
I didn't know how much more I could take of this

DJ let the song play through
Followed it up with Devil Inside
Fcuk you INXS, I love that song
Then he segued it into Bang A Gong


She told me about the father of her children
Told me
He had been a Yugoslavian
Of dubious allegiance
To the League of Communist
So they threw him in prison
And let him rot
To death

I asked how she had made it to the United States
If she had been married to an enemy of the state
She told me she had been a member of 
The Yugoslavian Olympic team in 1984 and had won

After her second child was born 
And they took her husband away to his eventual death
She systematically traded on her fame  
Giving herself to seventeen different officials

Then Kylie Minogue's voice
Got us off the dance floor 
She asked me my name
While telling me hers
I thanked her for dancing
Made a quick retreat
I wanted a good time
Not a recounting of scars





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