And went out for a dip
In the luxurious hotel pool.
I finally emerged,
Out of breath,
And seeking the sun for a while.
It had been a long cold winter in Dallas,
But it was warm in Las Vegas.
I stretched out
On the hard concrete,
Hands up behind my head.
He swam over about then,
And asked if I was from France.
Before I could answer,
He told me a little
About his private island
And how he wanted me
To come there with him
To reside forever more.
He then said he had a thing for chicks
Who didn’t shave their armpits.
Did I mention it had been a long cold winter in Dallas?
I sat up quickly and pulled my arms in tight,
And excused myself.
They say that each time we make a choice,
Some other form of us breaks away
And lives out the other possibility
In a parallel universe.
If this is true,
And it has to be,
For I heard Morgan Freeman say it on
“Through the Wormhole,”
Then somewhere down by Isla Mujeres,
I live with my bohemian Bavarian lover,
Instead of in this trailer in Eufaula
Writing my silly poems….
-jenn long
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