31/5/2019
Her name was Metta
A real Thai princess
Who got work
As a hair model
She used to wear a purple sweater
That showed off her figure
And I knew she liked me
Because she would punch me hard
And her friend call me their pimp
–
He father had some sort of cancer
And she started skipping school
To spend time with him
Eventually she just stopped coming
And I never saw her again
I didn’t think much of it
There were other girls around
But few as beautiful as her
–
Late one night
Several years later
We were both online
We got to talking
And she said
That back then she was in love with me
I said I had loved her too
We didn’t know what to say next
–
I haven’t seen or heard from her since
But I keep a pair
Of ornate chopsticks
She brought me back from Thailand
I still remember Metta
—
There were so many beautiful women in my life during my youth. I was spoiled really. It’s all dried up now that I’m hitting mid-thirties and with the hard road things have been for so long I regret not holding on to any of my great loves of my life. The experiences we would have had would have been a thousand times better than the wild ride of the last ten years.
Being a small town, when I was in prison there was a handful of inmates and a hand full of screws that went to my high school. One of them said I had the best looking girl in the school and it was true.
The end of this poem is a Kerouac reference.
I still remember Metta.
