after Lee Herrick
Arrive late to the party.
Say hello to your hosts.
You work with him.
You want her. You drink
a lot and then some more.
You corner her, engage
in conversation. Debate
feminism. You’re sure
she wants you, too.
We do not know
what might have
happened if you’d
been early to the party.
If you’d met someone
else. What we know
is that you were late,
that you found a pair
of my panties in
the bathroom hamper,
and you put them
in your pocket.
Desire. How it blinds us
to everything beyond
that which is wanted.
You were right,
I wanted you. I have
almost forgotten
what blindness feels like.
Ann Weil is a retired teacher and professor from Ann Arbor, Michigan. Look for her work in The Indianapolis Review, Third Wednesday, Eastern Iowa Review, Shooter Literary Magazine, The Healing Muse, Halfway Down the Stairs and San Pedro River Review. She earned her doctorate from the University of Michigan, and writes poetry for obvious reasons: glory and big bucks. Visit www.annweilpoetry.com for more information.