No Amnesia Yet by Rp Verlaine



When I picked her up
in a bar, it seemed too easy
to be real- it wasn’t.

Maybe I had “mark” written
all over me like targets
on a wanted gangster
whose run out of

We talked about my
divorce and her former
drug habit before
going to my place.

That first time
high on wine and
franetic on speed. Our
bodies became blurred
canvases we smeared
with mistakes a
five year old with finger-paints
wouldn’t make.

Next morning
I was asked to show her
valuable coins I couldn’t
remember telling
her about.

“Are you a thief?” I asked
maybe.” she said.

The second time wasn’t.
She kept checking for messages
distracted even when nude
hiding something.
Why so jumpy? I asked.
“Cigarettes”, she said and got
dressed before we even kissed.

“I just need ten minutes.”
in seven she returned
but I never saw
the guy behind her.
I woke up tied
more ways than a slave
in a dominatrix’s dungeon.
I didn’t report it to the police

Taking coins worth a few thousand
I’d won in a poker game.
While leaving paintings
worth considerably more.

But who said junkies are bright
never believe one who says they’ve
quit or the first woman you meet after
A divorce.

“I’ll give you amnesia ,” she said
you’ll forget all about your wife.”
“What if you’re worse?” I said
“call the cops,” she smiled.


©2019 Rp Verlaine


Rp Verlaine has a MFA in creative writing from City College and taught in NY schools for many years. Although he no longer teaches, he continues to write and do photography in NYC. Rp’s most recent poetry collection, Femme Fatales Movie Starlets & Rockers was released in 2018.

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