--For J.D. Salinger

        I am so goddamn sick of this phony world
        I tell myself stumbling through the doorway
        after work to find good ol' Phoebe
        laying on my bed--

        Only she's on her back
        and wearing boxer shorts
        and a training bra
        and black lipstick
        with her legs slightly apart.

        "What's up your ass?" she snorts.
        I light up a joint and slur "Nothing,
        you know, same ol' shit. What's up with you?"

        "Same ol' shit here, too" she tells me.
        "I found out today that Tommy's parents
        are getting divorced because Tommy's mother
        was screwing her brother-in-law and you know the
        priest upstairs? Well, he finally got arrested
        and Jennifer's mother just got checked into a
        rehab and Billy's father was shot and killed and
        the president finally admitted
        that woman was blowing him.

        And, oh yeah, today

        I picked up some free condoms in school."

        I turn on the tube to the Learning Channel
        when good ol' Phoebe says
        "What the fuck is this?
        Don't you know Melrose is on?"

        So I put Melrose on and she asks for a toke
        but I tell her 'hell no--this stuff ain't for kids'
        and I think about pinching her behind
        but remember that this is the 90's
        people get arrested for this stuff nowadays
        so we just lay back and watch the show
        and the whole time I'm wondering
        who the fuck killed Phoebe Caulfield?

        'Must be that goddamn MTV' I tell myself;
        until she jumps up and says
        "I gotta be getting the hell out of here"
        and makes for the window,

        which she leaps blindly out of,
        screaming,
        as she falls
        down
        down
        down
        towards the concrete rye,
        with no catcher to be found.


Copyright © Denny Gasdogas, 2000.  All Rights Reserved.