Mark James Andrews

lost in tales told by idiots by mark james andrews

Lost in Tales Told by Idiots

a semi-truck
blasting air horn
broke my swing stride
I would have dashed into traffic
lost in tales told by idiots
I make it to a side street
my girl Bridge waiting
on her front porch
pacing reading Tristessa
wearing a full black leotard
cut-off jeans over it
canvas combat boots
copped for next to nothing
the army surplus store
ready to split city limits
lost in tales told by idiots
“Tristessa means sadness
in Spanish and Portuguese”
Bridge announces
she striking with her new
razor layered haircut auburn
me having same dirty blonde
she insisting do it together
chill of the morning
working on her body
cars honking
old guys yelling whistling
me draping my blue jean jacket
over her bare neck shoulders
our bus screeching up
air going from lilac to diesel
just kids waking up at dawn
lost in tales told by idiots

MARK JAMES ANDREWS lives and writes in Metro Detroit. His latest collection of poems is So I Lit a Fire for The Last Thanksgiving from Alien Buddha Press. He is also author of Motor City is Burning & Other Rock & Roll Poems (Gimmick Press), Compendium 20/20 (Deadly Chaps), Burning Trash (Pudding House) and a poetry recording Brylcreem Sandwich (Bandcamp). Recent and forthcoming work is in Third Wednesday, Chiron Review, Nerve Cowboy, Heroin Love Songs, and Voices from the Fire.

© Maximus Magazine 2022

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