Laura and the Dictionary by Jason Baldinger

I remember her name was Laura
she was a mouth open, gum smacking
dumb as a box of rocks head of cheerleaders
recently graduated from high school

she worked with me in big box hell
her tenure didn’t last long. She was bubbly
she was an airhead. I don’t remember
how we got to talking
or why she took a shine to me

she had a boyfriend, well built
boring, also dumb as a box of rocks
he considered Laura to be property

we all ended up at the same party
Laura ditched him for me
we spent the next few hours
sitting in a roadside rain ditch
making out
we got back to the party
her man didn’t bother to make a scene

over the next weeks we would meet
in an array of places ending up
under bridges, on park benches
in parking lot, parked
in cars interrupted by neighbors
who thought it was their daughter in the car

she didn’t leave him, I wouldn’t ask her to
she would tell me every time
her boyfriend knew something was going on
that she was his property
I answered the same way each time
bring a marker next time, I’ll be happy
to write, to cover every inch of you
with the dictionary definition of property

Jason Baldinger
Jason Baldinger has spent a life in odd jobs, if only poetry was the strangest of them he’d have far less to talk about. He’s traveled the country and written a few books, the latest of which are The Lower 48 (Six Gallery Press) and The Studs Terkel Blues (Night Ballet Press). A short litany of publishing credits include Blast Furnace, The Glassblock, Lilliput Review, Green Panda Press, Pittsburgh Poetry Review and Fuck Art, Let’s Dance. You can hear audio versions of some poems on Bandcamp, just type in his name.

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