’43 – the year I found love

by Steven J. Serafiani

had a 43′ Remington portable for five months
sexy fucking thing
cost me a two hundred some odd bucks
but I needed her
she was a classic
a true beauty
told me to tell the modern to blow
taught me to let go
and I rarely left her side
only when I had to turn time into peanuts
to pay that unopened fat postage laden stack on my nightstand

I remember that the “I” would get stuck sometimes
she was like a jealous girlfriend
so I wrote without an “I”
that was tough
but for five months I fashioned myself
like a writer in a wife beater
sucking cigs and eating oranges
wandering type of writing
wrote about the fascism man creates
the folly man fornicates
wrote about dames I screwed or was screwing
wrote about my place in this pinhead of time
wrote about life
whatever that may mean

I had to sell her though
had to pay rent
had to
I don’t know where she went
probably landed into folly and fascism
but I’m sure she still thinks fondly
of those ten guests
that took up residence
that supplied resonance
for five months
for five dynamite months.