Marianna [Poem] by Noel Negele

We hooked up on a drunken night
somewhere in Bergen Op Zoom, Holland
where I told them all outside a club
they don’t know how to live
this isn’t how you party,
you drink soft drinks first, in a soft and nonchalant environment
where you talk and joke and nag each other
while it hopefully plays Springsteen or something sexy and old school
like that and only after you’re faded you head
to the dark corners with the loud music
and that unbelievably obnoxious congestion of intoxicated
young morons stepping on your shoes and spilling their
drinks on your self-ironed shirt
and it was the first time we talked as well, though we’d seen
each other a couple of times
she wasn’t interested and I was heartbroken from a previous lover.
In the club we pretended to be brothers, who the fuck knows why
and she kept bringing me girls and I kept failing
and we drank more because of that and somewhere inside the
laughing throat of this night we all were
she danced with a black fag who danced better than her
and I watched her suddenly with the predatory eyes
of an intoxicated horny man looking at a beautiful woman
and she noticed, she noticed because I made sure of it
and she brought to us a beautiful angel, she was an incredible
blonde dutch girl with crystal blue eyes we kept looking at
as if we were on drugs, her skin incredible, which we kept touching,
and the dutch angel kept laughing
but then she told us she was sixteen and we both wordlessly
agreed that it was immoral to try for a threesome
and while the herd thinned in the club, dawn now, tired and sweaty
and completely shitfaced I got in a fight with some Turkish blokes
who were kind of right to fight me because I was hitting on one
of them’s girl
and she kept me back, kept me from getting my ass handed to me
and I pushed her aside but she pasted herself against me again
and said look at me, and I said, the fuck you want and I looked at her
and she kissed me, our mouths watered by our saliva
and after, in our hotel room we had an incredible time having sex
which is a rare case with me to be honest,
kissing her thighs, the tattoo that said “fuck you” right over her clit
and in the following weeks we were six roommates in this house and my room’s window looked outside on the back of the building, over a roof she’d place a straw chair on
where she sunbathed and read her book of self-improvement
and we talked at times, me from the window, her there almost completely nude, me shirtless, trying to look cool, smoking
a beer on my hand, noticing her face while she narrowed her eyes
because of the sun
and then she lost her dog back home and she got sad
for a long long time, nothing would help, long talks deep into
the night at Saturdays, the drugs I’d bring to her, the ice creams
and then she decided to head back and look for her dog
which is such a stupid thing to do when you’re 28
and at the same time such an amazing thing, you can’t help
but judge it and be amazed by it.
And she’s in a flight now, piercing through the clouds
and I don’t care all that much, but it’d be nice to ride those bicycles one more time with her
through these brick-paved streets, these beautiful western European roads and forests and hear her sing and hear her
say those things she was so convinced were wise
and I just hope she finds her dog because it’ll be such a shame
otherwise, y’know?

Published by mistyrampart

Freelancer, poet, dreamer

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: