beth.clark@ymail.com

An Ode to Boyfriends Past

The introvert musings and hilariously true life adventures of a pragmatic optimist and professional writer.

An Ode to Boyfriends Past

Twas the week before Christmas, when I suddenly found
Ex-boyfriends were stirring, all over town.
Their reasons were varied and mostly legit
In hopes that I’d forgiven all their past shit.

The waiter was doing his usual chores
While envisioning Scrabble victories galore.
And he in his Carhartts, and I in my jeans,
Made me relieved that I’d wiped the slate clean.

When out of my phone there came a loud ding
And I sprang to my feet to check out the ping.
As photos of 3-day elk chili created a smile,
I realized I hadn’t seen my Marine ex in a while.

The family dogs playing in the new fallen snow
Gave it a tinge of yellow as they peed just for show.
When what to my squinting eyes should appear,
But a text from a ship captain I once held dear.

Then as I Facebooked there ensued a loud chase,
Stopping me on photos of an ex in cars that he raced.
Venture Capitalist, he’d said with a gleam,
10 years later, I still don’t know what that means.

The one thing apparent in all of the chatter,
Was that only a few of my exes still matter.
Those that are gone held a place in my past,
But not much more (they were a pain in the ass).

Now architects! Now realtors! Now bartenders, you!
On firemen! On pilots! On doctors, and VPs too!
Off to the arms of women you may not yet know!
Now go away! Go away! Go away, GO!

And then, in a twinkling, off they all went
After having a chuckle at my little vent.
I owe them all thanks for the lessons I learned,
Except for the one whose soul was so blackened it burned.

I sprang to my Tiguan, to my dog gave a whistle,
And toward me there sprinted a furry yellow missile.
Then we drove off toward the mall in the Idaho freeze,
So Happy Christmas to all, and thanks for the memories!

(This started out as a heartfelt ode of gratitude prompted by a cleanup of really old photos, but as with many things, I took a left turn, and well, here we are. So, a poet I’m not, but I do have a few exes who are good guys even though they weren’t the right ones for me, and enriched my world by prompting me to go places I probably wouldn’t have on my own and teaching or showing me things I wouldn’t have known or seen otherwise. If you’re reading this and you’re one of them, grazie for that.)

3 Responses

  1. S. says:

    I’ve given you 35 years of my life, but its the boys who get a poem?!

    A dear old friendship!
    Memories not forgotten,
    Even some that should be.

  2. Anonymous says:

    Very profound

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.