My Cop Girlfriend

She makes me veal,
to use her stove,
sauce.
Sauce, being undesirable.

My drive home from her apartment was a torturous slide and wobble
along the ice frosted abyss of shame and self-loathing.
It was frigid as I left her building,
and all I wanted to do was drive home in a warm car.
I was sliding out of control on the inside.
I took, with psychotic delight, deep inhales of the freezing Minnesota air
I did it over and over again 'til my lower lip froze and fell off.

While I was driving, I kept hearing the whirr and whirr of the cop's
sirens behind me.
The sirens had a frantic, hurried sound to them.
I didn't turn around, so as to be disappointed to find that she was not
chasing after me.
After driving further up the road, I noticed that the sirens had stopped.
Then I realized that the sirens I had heard were the echos of my own
angsty, pathetic desires resonating off
of the muddy glass of the windows of an '82 vw rabbit

Just once.
I think I deserve to be chased.
I would like to see that she cares if I am obeying the traffic laws.
I would like to see some effort from her.
And if she can't.
Then I have to say goodbye.

Alone, I await a ticket that may never come.
Alone again.

-Danarchy '98.
I'm sorry, I'm getting all choked up just writing this. 


(the original follows)


> Alone Again
> 
> 
> She makes me feel,
> to use her words,
> base.
> Base, meaning undesirable.
> 
> My walk home from her apartment was a torturous slide and wobble
> into a heart palpitated abyss of shame and self loathing.
> It was frigid as I left her building,
> and all I wanted to do was cry over a warm cigarette.
> I was sobbing out of control on the inside.
> I took, with painful pleasure, deep inhales off my cigarette.
> I did it over and over again till my lower lip burned.
> 
> While I was walking I kept hearing the click and scrape of someone's
> steps behind me.
> The shoes had a frantic, hurried sound to them.
> I didn't turn around, so as to not be disappointed to find that she was
> not chasing after me.
> After walking further up the road, I noticed that the other footsteps had
> stopped.
> Then I realized that the sounds I had heard were the steps of my own feet
> resonating off
> of the darkened panes of glass of closed store-front windows.
> 
> Just once.
> I think I deserve to be chased.
> I would like to see that she cares if she loses me.
> I would like to see some effort from her.
> And if she can't.
> Then I have to say good-bye.
> 
> Alone, I await an apology that may never come.
> Alone again.
>