Patrick Samuel: Two of Swords
The Lovers
So, the bros upstairs
cheer along to football
while Erik eats my ass.
Two of Swords
So, nobody calls it brunch back home,
always breakfast, and I’m wondering if
it’s because of the booze. We have a little
list on receipt paper and a pen
from the waitress. She took longer
than I’d like to greet us (more and more
I feel like one half of the angry tracksuit
couple from “Seinfeld,” mad that Kramer
won’t wear the AIDS ribbon), I’m edgy
and need coffee. Omg on the way
here someone stared at me
and I didn’t like it. Like they were
spitting curses under their clenched
teeth, their breath at me. When
my dad used to disappear on binges
I pictured myself as this ball
of highly explosive material,
like one of the mutants from
my comic books. I used to really
feel music, all the way.
That bitch Tiffany
didn’t even invite me to see Fiona
live when she was touring for Tidal.
Her and stupid Lauren
smoked weed in an alcove by
St. Andrews. It’s cool, though,
cuz a couple times Jane took
me out with Cary in her Baretta, her
menthols crisp, how I imagined
a slit throat might take you back at first.
She kept the pack in this compartment
hanging from the ceiling between
the driver and passenger seats
meant for sunglasses. Jane used
to go camping with Cary’s family
and drive around drinking
and smoking and getting guys to give
them these thick gold chains that all
the racist pigs at my high school
wore and called ghetto. My mom went
to the same high school as me and says
during the Detroit riots they locked
the school down during
its own race riot and some
other of her bullshit.
She said don’t say excuse me,
say HEY! PUNK! Mmm, no, not
me. I think most people don’t
know what to “do” with me.
Elusive as a shadow, Ellen’s
husband Jon said, who I only smoked
weed with, like, twice. I’m fine. Except
I always feel so pretentious
feeling fruit to see if it’s good.
Am I good? Next month, I’ll get
serious again about loving my body,
as if touching is what I’d meant all along.
Patrick Samuel lives in Chicago where he received his MFA from Columbia College. He currently works in acquisitions at Northwestern University Press. His most recent work appears or is forthcoming in Animal: A Beast of a Literary Magazine, Court Green, and Prelude.
