judy
 

judy said she had a tattoo
of calvin and hobbes
on each ass cheek
and she had dirty blonde
hair and almond eyes
that looked at you, pierced you
in a way that said you could
really learn to understand
each other when you weren't
too busy fucking.
when she spoke she said
stupid things, but who didn't.
she said things like
we really see eye to eye
and aren't weddings the best
or beer will make me fat.
and when you took judy
on the dance floor
she laughed every single time
you dipped her
and when i pulled her close
she breathed heavily on my shoulder
that is, until my friend, colby, cut in.
judy came to the wedding with colby,
and afterwards he was going
to take her to a hotel and fuck her
in order to get back at his girlfriend
for getting pregnant.
i'd forgotten that part.
i really wanted judy
but colby was like family
and he said isn't she the kind
of woman your friend should really be dating
and how could i argue with that?
but more than everything else
judy could nuzzle a man under
his ear just right,
and she was a master
at playing one fool off another one.
her kisses tasted like roses
and hell, after all of these years
i wonder where judy is
on this ugly earth tonight.


* John Grochalski is an American writer whose poetry has appeared in a wide range of magazines. His short fiction has appeared in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette and the forthcoming anthology Living Room Handjob.  My His collection of poetry The Noose Doesn't Get Any Looser After You Punch Out is published by Six Gallery Press.