Pillars of Salt
He feels her when she walks into the room
it’s just a frisk but she loves a man in uniform
and likes the way handcuffs make her imagine
she’s helpless in her lover’s arms.
She tells him what she’d do to him if he took her
home to his place and he pretends not to care
but she knows he’s lonely because he’s not
wearing a wedding ring.
There’s something about the way she moves
that makes him think she’s used to being mishandled
but he doesn’t know her, or want to do anything
other than to drink some sweet tea and go to bed.
It’s almost four in the morning again and he has
just one more hour before he can go home, take a shower,
watch the morning news and read the paper
while trying to forget her proposal.
She’s in it for the long haul and he likes lewd women
he just stands there by the door watching, waiting for anyone
to make a wrong move so he can take his aggressions out on
the scum, which is how he thinks of them all.
Another man in uniform takes her away from him
and she screams so he’ll come over to touch her again,
she kicks so he’ll hold her down while she pretends
it’s just rough sex and he’s about to ravish her body.
He hates his work while he pins her to the floor,
growing excited and disgusted by the smell of her
and she loves him as she screams profanities
which fail to shock him after years on the job.
It’s just another day and in another setting maybe
he could have fallen in love with her instead of feeling
the revulsion that makes him long for home
while he straps her to the chair.
Eli Juhola has been writing poetry for over a decade. Every once in a while you can find him at the bar with a beer and a notebook, thinking about a thousand things and laughing at some mystical private joke. He likes to yell at people through microphones and has awesome powers of making coffee.
Copyright © 2013 by Eli J. Juhola