The Most Unlikely Couple
and post notes and photos about your poem like connie pachecho.
We were sitting in my car, companions to a lovely Hawaiian night where the moon shined bright, and the white caps glistened in the sea. Everything was in place. The white sand beaches and palm trees alive, and in the distance the Koolau mountains standing guard. Parked nearby were other couples chilling, listening to the music of the waves and, I guess, making their own music. For us it was the small talk, getting to know each other and looking into each other's eyes and souls. Ordinary...ordinary as can be...I thought. Although, I would soon find out we were the opposite sides of coin.
As a first date goes, it was like climbing Mt.Everest, having an arduous path and making new discoveries. At the time we were both in our forties and hungered to turn the pages and read each other's book. She was of Pakistanian decent, petite, and a former gymnast. I was Japanese, way overweight and a former football player. To my nervousness I learned that she graduated from Yale with a masters degree in English literature, modeled in her younger days and had the taste of the good life. Upon hearing this I wanted to sink in my car seat. If she learned the truth about me, I can imagine, her side door opening and she disappearing into the night. So I lied. I couldn't stand the thought of being a row boat to her ship so I said I was a museum curator, when actually I drove a tour van, and in between runs wrote the zaniest of poems.
As the hours went by, we laughed, and teased each other noses and eyes. Hers long, mine short. The ink was deep, my feet getting wet and for the first time I felt like I was on rarefied air. I was beginning to like her. The subject about her father brought upon a silence for the first time that night. I could see that her eyes and thoughts were guarded. After a long pause she sighed that her father is very important, and he has people, which at that time I was oblivious. We continued on like playful seals, bobbing a ball. My curiosity, though, getting the best of me I asked what does it mean he has people. She looked into my eyes, wishing she was normal, and said her father was mafia. Upon hearing this I became sickened. Cupids arrow definitely took a turn. I asked her are we being watched now. She nodded. The bobbing ball popped. Eventually I started the car getting closer to the truth, and a caravan of other cars started theirs. We were being followed.
Chapter 1 Poetry Contest
That's all she wrote.-I thought for sure this poem would get a placement. I'm more at a loss. The sponsor of the contest drummed up the contestants entries by stating that such an entry may be a start to writing a book, which I really took to heart. Then thud. I guess I was wasting my time.
Copyright © connie pachecho | Year Posted 2022
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment