‘Chitchat’ by Norma Pain

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Chitchat

If only I could find a man,
I’m lonely since Sebastian,
That loser, left me for another.
Still, I didn’t like his mother
Anyway, so no big deal,
And honestly, I really feel
We just weren’t suited after all,
I much preferred my time with Paul,
The plumber…

Paul and I sure had some laughs.
We took some risqué photographs.
I tell you, I could not resist
Those lips of his, oh how he kissed,
And what a looker, really cute
But good looks aren’t a substitute
For brains I guess and he had less
Than Cousin Dwayne when he was sick
Last summer.

Poor Dwayne, he went down pretty fast.
The doctors said he wouldn’t last.
He rambled on and on and on
About his favorite pink chiffon-
Type boxer shorts with purple lace.
His dad thought Dwayne a big disgrace,
And blamed it on his stint in jail,
But hey, that’s just another tale
To tell…

So I recall that crazy Paul
Was just a plumber after all,
And plumbers, everybody knows
Don’t come up smelling like a rose.
Besides, he drove a Pontiac,
From eighty five, a hatch in back,
So Paul and I, we had some fun
But hey you know, what’s done is done…
Oh well.

And then, do you remember Sid,
The fireman with the bratty kid?
So tall and dark and really slim,
I could have settled down with him,
If he could just have dumped his son
Back on his ex… she was the one
To drive her son to petty crime,
I realised then that it was time…
To split.

And after Sid, I must confess,
I was a total useless mess,
And tried to stay away from men,
Until the day when I met Ben
And fell in love in no time flat,
Until he told me I was fat,
That I should really try to lose
Some weight and cut right down on booze…
Or quit.

His words brought on some huge regrets.
I smoked a dozen cigarettes,
Picturing my whole life worsen,
If I couldn’t find my person.
Someone who would really care
About me, like an answered prayer.
Who’d give me gifts and love in spades,
Like the guy in ‘Fifty Shades…
Of Grey’.

Oh men! They’ll drive me round the bend.
So, tell me, as my bestest friend,
D’you think I’ll ever find a man
To love me just the way I am,
And one who’ll treat me with respect
And hopefully with intellect,
Or do I need to see a shrink,
Please tell me what you really think…
Okay?

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Chitchat Continued…

Well… since you asked me what I think,
You really must cut down on drink
And ditch the cigarettes as well,
You’re smelling like a cheap hotel.
And maybe you could wear a smile
And then go solo for a while,
Forget all men and concentrate
Instead, on lifting up a weight…
Or two.

And how about we start to take
A walk or bike ride round the lake.
I’m sure you’d love it, and in time
You’d lose more weight and feel sublime,
And then you’d show Paul, Sid and Ben
And all those egotistic men,
That you’ll be fine while on your own,
And tell them, if or when they phone…
Adieu!

Also, there is your complexion,
Which I must say lacks perfection
At the moment, but I’m sure
It’s caused by too much cheap liqueur.
So once you get back on your feet,
Just cut in half how much you eat.
And soon, I think that you will see
That men are not a guarantee…
Of bliss.

They’re great for helping with expenses,
Watching sports and fixing fences,
But they take your heart and crush it
Into pieces, then they flush it
Down the toilet, they don’t care,
They’ll have themselves one more affaire.
Who needs another low-life creep,
Sending us into a deep…
Abyss?

Now please don’t look at me that way.
Everything will be okay.
Your life’s not over, it’s begun.
I’m not suggesting be a nun.
You’ll not be left upon the shelf
But first you have to love yourself.
Just take a break and don’t depend
On men, realise you have a friend…
In me.

Another thing, if you don’t mind
Me saying this, it sounds unkind,
But as your friend, I want the best
For you, I’ll get this off my chest.
You kinda, sorta talk too much.
Perhaps you use it as a crutch
To hide the fact that you feel blue
And rather desp’rate, so do you…
Agree?

Talking non-stop tends to make
Men back-away… for goodness sake!
Oh dear, don’t cry, what have I said.
I think I’ve made things worse instead.
Just wait, we’ll have a glass of wine
Or two, then you’ll be feeling fine.
Oh no! I said you shouldn’t drink
And now I don’t’ know what to think…
Or do.

To heck with it, let’s sit and eat
That bag of cookies for a treat.
That tub of ice cream’s going rotten,
Let this past hour be forgotten.
We don’t really need a guy.
Oftentimes a real good cry
Can help to take the blues away
And get us through another day…
Or two.

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Norma Pain was born in Liverpool, England and now lives in Parksville, British Columbia, Canada. Thirty of Norma’s poems were published by Dana Literary Society, between 2004 and 2007 and she was twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize by that same on-line poetry site. She self-published a book of rhyme in 2000 called Bulging Assets.