Category Archives: poety

Garry May

Garry May threw up on my shoe the first time we met,

looked up at me,

smiled and said, “I love you.”

And that was it for me.

Without reason,

I loved him terribly and immediately.

We were at a bar downtown.

Then he played a Blondie song on the jukebox,

made a joke about anal sex to a young couple.

I think they were on a first date,

They seemed offended,

and I laughed.

He looked like that guy from the Libertines,

during a bad patch

and whenever you had him over,

was habitually entitled to any booze in the house.

Garry told people to fuck off

without hesitation,

he always smoked all my cigarettes.

Sometimes he was downright gross.

Truly, he was a handful,

there was an ugliness about him

that scared away the faint of heart,

and I loved it.

Sometimes,

we did drunk yoga.

The ugly in me

honors the ugly in you,

my beloved derelict, Garry.

In people,

It’s hard to love the darknesses ,

but I think we should shoot for that

if we really want it to matter.

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