Sunday, October 11, 2009


photograph by Dad

I once dated a bartender.
We met when I tried to play football.
He drove a jeep, called me a suit,
and bought me white chocolate chapstick
from the Gap.
He'd needed a clean shirt for work
and believed laundry to be a waste of time.
I knew it was all temporary.
I never even met his roommate, the actuary.
He wanted to be a cop,
like my dad,
and he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend.
She didn't bother with manicures.
He introduced me to
and Aurora.


  1. Okay - I can't even pay attention to the poem (although I like that it seems to be a little irreverent in tone)... That photo, Denise...! So beautiful...! It made me smile! I am completely intrigued by the photo, your Dad's name (what's his background?), and the words... they're all teasing me in the most delicious way. What a sweet post!


  2. Char, I can see what you mean.

    Maria, You are very observant. My father's family is Latvian. He is from a big fun bunch of 9 children, all with interesting names.

  3. that is the cutest picture!

    and a very charming story/poem

  4. Lisa,

    I'll have to pass your picture complement on to the photographer. He did capture a great moment and mood.

    Thank you for for your kind words regarding the story/poem too.