Pickle Juice

Sometimes the scavengers for love
are fatter than those who hunt it.
Wasted love is widely spread
over the rug
under the bed
popping from belly
and flaking from head.

When I was fifty
I wasn't satisfied
with scraps of love.

Careers Come College
employed me as a mascot.
Student Services Coordinator,
I taught speech-making
and communication.
I'm sorry Ms January.

The first term went well
as all the young women,
light heartedly
went where I took them.

Then you came along leaving
pickle juice in my brain.

You gave that speech
I'll never forget
about reading the palm, and
worked so hard on your slides,
I should have been dazzled.

I am sorry Ms January. saying that now,
wishing I knew how to say I'm sorry.
I wake up cringing still, my mouth twisted
with pickle juice from my brain.