the lie detector machine

I make a trip down to the old
fbi
building to pick up a few things
that they're throwing away
or selling at dirt cheap
prices.

I have my eye on an old fashioned
lie detector,
the kind with the arm cuff
and the wiggly lines
that
zig zag all over the place
on the scrolling sheets
of paper.

I wished i'd had one of those
a few
years ago,
or thirty years ago, as a
matter of fact.

there's a dozen women
I've dated
or had relationships with
that I would have loved to hook
them up to the machine.

oh, the mistakes I wouldn't
have made.
a few simple questions would
have saved me a lot
of money, heart ache,
jewelry and
flowers, not to mention
scratches down the side of my car.

although the last relationship
would have blown the machine
up and made it catch fire.
you couldn't get the truth
out of her even with her hand
on a bible.
she was allergic to the truth.
still is.