November 1968: the Hunted
November 1968: The Hunted
Got divorced couple years ago, second time
At first, I mirror myself as a low-life loser
Jack without Jill, McGee without Molly
Ossie without Harriot, Adam absent Eve
No fourth finger, gold band of respectability
Instead wagging digits of family and friends
Then discover a stimulating, singles society
Connect at cocktail lounges and corner bars
dating services, social clubs, work cafeterias
commuting club cars, once at a church social
Mindlessly, I transform into a blissful bachelor
‘til a Swedish mermaid magically materializes
Attend a Singles, Saturday eve swim fest. Stand
in shoulder deep water, arms rest on side of pool
Envision my later-this-evening date with Debbie
a waitress, Embers Dinner Club; off at midnight
Suddenly, a splash surges up from the surface
Engaging eyes and a sparkling smile follow
A melodic voice sings out of a beautiful face,
body, “Hi, my name’s JoAnne, what’s yours?”
I stutter, stumble, finally mumble, “Uh, ah, Joe.”
Captivating conversation tightens a growing knot
A troubling thought thunders through my mind
“It is already too late. This one will do you in”
In three months, JoAnne re-arranges my world
I vacate my bachelor pad, move into her house
Say good-bye to Myrtle, Julie, Cindy, Debbie
Say hello to Jo’s folks: Alice, stepfather Nolan
Marry short time thereafter in their Swiss chalet
Introduce Jo to my folks during our honeymoon
Meet endless number of new Swedish relatives:
Norman, Sigurd, Don, Jim, Dorothy, Ruth, Violet
Stop wearing same smelly shirt around house
Go back to church. Take up tennis and skiing
Change jobs from Motorola, a manufacturer
to Deloitte, bigtime professional services firm
Spend entire summer scraping, painting
JoAnne’s weathered, all-wooden house
Wonder with each scrape, stroke from a
perilous ladder position; what happened
Stunned by my supersonic-speed surrender
Today, fifty years later, my head still spins
Copyright © Joe Masi | Year Posted 2019
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