Issue 4:
Star
Michael Karpinski
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Scene Deleted
I saw you. At the party. On the terrace. In Bel Air. You had put ice cubes in your martini. You were a long way from home.
So star-struck. So stranger-in-a-strange-land. So lost-puppy. So lame-leper. You were performing for me. Posing. Holding your drinks at reckless angles and yawning far too often and far too practiced into the backs of your wrists. You stopped my heart.
But what choice did we have but to chase you away? You and those indelicate ice cubes. Leper go home.
I saw you. Your face so flushed. So corn-fed Midwest. Hayseed dreams so naked on your sleeve.
But we laughed you back to your cattle drives. Your teenage sweetheart five-and-dime. Your tenterhooks and tumbleweeds.
If only you'd been better -- if only I'd been less -- I might have driven you to the ocean's edge. And then, in the dark, after it was done, you might have told me about life in Butte or Sioux City and I might have pretended to care and you might have pretended to believe that I cared and, sometimes, let's face it: that's about as close to love as there is.
~Michael Karpinski
Michael chose not to submit a biographical profile at this time.
© 1999 by Michael Karpinski. All Rights Reserved.
© 2000-2002 by Cayuse Press. All Rights Reserved.
This page updated April 23, 2002.