Thursday, June 18, 2009


the poor, little girl
she was in that dark tavern all alone
drinking cheap beers
and holding her own
fending off the advances
from a dozen guys
who hadn’t had any
in probably longer than you or me
after enough time
they all left her alone
and muttered not so quietly
how she was a bitch
a tease
how she’d certainly ruin a man’s life
if she ever let one in
so there she stood
playing darts
all by herself
because that’s what she said
she wanted
I was standing at the door
checking IDs
watching baseball
and watching her throw the darts
wondering what would happen
if she hit a bull’s eye
what would she do then?
did it all really mean nothing to her?
after five more innings
when the Red Sox came out on top
after they earned three runs in the thirteenth
she actually did hit a bull’s eye
she stared at it a while
then walked towards the dartboard
for a closer inspection
upon seeing the bull’s eye
she immediately turned her head
to see if anybody else was watching
if anybody else had seen her bull’s eye toss
her exceptional throw
her winning hit
but nobody said a word
nobody even noticed
and if they had they wouldn’t have cared
she left the dart up there a while
occasionally looking around
you could see the desire for recognition
from the back of her head
you could see the need
for human interaction
but nobody gave it to her
it was like she’d never even thrown a bull’s eye at all
if you only care about yourself
little dart throwing girl
what does it really matter
if nobody is there to see?

No comments: