We will be how they remember us forever,
and you’ve left yourself open
to my imagination.
Double-crossing a sorcerer
was hardly your best idea
yet you gave me everything I needed
to build such tragedies for you
as could more than make up for
my precious wasted time.
You will be immortal, darling,
when I’ve done with you-
nightly you present yourself
to my discretion-
such horror stories and sad tales
I couldn’t have come up with
on my own.
You’re the bald man on the corner selling hot dogs,
you’re the suicidal writer with the coke nose,
you’re the ogre the princess rejects
and you’re the one irony does off with
time and time again.
Sometimes you have herpes,
and sometimes you get mowed down by a train,
sometimes the girl you love is a man,
and sometimes you get a jury summons, tax audit, parking ticket, and a cavity
all on the same day.
No one will ever love you in my stories
and you’ll never have any luck
and if I didn’t know I’ll beat you to the top
I’d say it wouldn’t do any harm
but you will be immortal, darling,
when I’ve done with you.