S’io credesse che mio italiano fosse impressionante,
Sarei idiota apparentemente. I guess I’m the dumbass
For learning Italian to attract girls. I know now that
Pronouncing “bruschetta” correctly is worthless.
Quoting Dante isn’t hot, either. Tried it. Failed.

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table.
And since we’re on the subject, why might he be
Etherized? Perhaps to numb the pain of the words
Spoken by a thoughtless woman
Who broke his heart in two?
Anyway.
Let us go to my parents’ house,
And eat my mother’s tuna casserole
And meet my childhood dog, Bailey
Then let’s away to half-deserted streets
Where you can randomly start an argument
About my “emotional availability”
Which somehow leads you to the question…
Oh, “What are we?” Yes,
Let us go and make our visit.

In my life the women come and go
They want my subscription to HBO.

Was it worth it to go to your friend Jenna’s 5K
After I said that I didn’t like that kind of thing?
And then to be like, “So you hate my friends?”
That is not what I meant at all;
That is not it, at all.

And then I saw the moment of my greatness flicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
Fear, the ever-present third in our relationship.
Do I dare
Disturb your universe?
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach,
Especially when you conveniently remind me of
Their sugar content as I engage in
What you call “mindless snacking?”

Don’t think I’m ever taking you back
After all that gas you lit.
I’m moving on to a new demographic: mermaids.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
There may be a barrier,
Environmental and biological,
But they don’t go to fucking 5Ks.

—J. Gustaferro

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