fly me to the moon

after your traumatic
divorce a month ago
from your wife of ten years
you decide to never
drink alone.
well, hardly ever.
but sometimes
though, on a cold windy,
rainy, beast of a night
you put on your black silk
pajamas, mix up
a white russian
and turn the stereo on.
that's right. the stereo.
leave me alone
with your i pod
mp3 whatever junk.
you've got two big
stereo speakers
in the corner and
a stack of pioneer
recievers. you drop
the needle down on sinatra,
the capitol years.
you dim the lights
and settle into
the big leather chair
in the corner, the one
you fought for in
the settlement,
then you pull out
your little black
book of old girlfriends.
trying to see who
might be free and
willing to drive
in the storm to come
visit. it's a little dusty
and sticky, but
you manage to
open to the B page.
you try betty
first, but she's
crying when she picks
up, so you quickly
say oops, wrong number.
next is lulu. lulu
is a girl who knows
how to have fun.
she answers with a
cheery hello, which is
a good sign. hey baby,
you say, sipping on
your drink, what's
happening. long time.
i just got out of rehab
she says. oh really,
you say, flipping to
the next page. what for?
oh, for sex, drugs and alcohol,
she says, so i'm sorry,
but i can't see you, plus i have
my knitting circle tonight.
okay. you say, make me
a pot holder or something.
bye. next you try gloria,
g l o r i a, you sing
out loud. this makes
the dog sleeping in
the corner lift his head
and squint his eyes
at you. hey gloria,
it's me. jimmy. jimmy.
from the club. we met
one night.... hello.
hello. dial tone.
you vaguely remember
sneaking out of her house
one night and borrowing
some money that you may
or may not have paid back.
okay, you say, clinking
the ice around in your drink.
no problem, let's see here.
shelia. good old sheila.
red wine sheila.
big lips covered in
cherry red lipstick
sheila. you dial her
up and nod yes to yourself,
why didn't you call
her first. of course.
she's gold. a man
answers the phone.
hello, you say, is ummmm
sheila there. yeah, buddy,
she's here. who's this?
you're speaking to
her husband. who is this?
you hang up and sigh.
what the hell, you think.
what happened to everyone.