How Aily Grew Up

Johnny turns out to be
the thinnest rake of them all
with his weedy eyes that train
on you
all night long
outside the diner or during
church.
I lost a lot
that evening, semen
on my dress, the lonely roadside.
In one blackout alone
I grabbed all my photos,
threw em in with the hotel litter.
I wasn't a looker, not fast
enough for the boys, not
cute enough for
Patsy; wailing
to my mother
through the cloakroom wall.
She never answered, course -
hair pulled back, mouth
dangling
like a ripped out appendix,
Moon River on the turntable.
I didn't wait
for the final
climax
that might lift us all
to God and heaven,
I just
crossed my legs
and cried
cos Jesus was a man
who'd never
come
fuck it better.