ILLUSIONS AND CONFESSIONS By John Williams The eleven o’clock news Is playing on the radio “Good evening folks Tonight in Baghdad Twenty people have been killed In a suicide bombing The…” I turn it off Nothing new to hear Still the same old shit Just a different twist People killing people I drive past my drive way The mans car is still there I see the lights on in my bedroom Can’t go home yet I pull into a bar With no intention of getting drunk Even though I have every reason to I have one drink Then another The world is lost In a purple haze I stare at the tile On the bathroom floor Different shades of grey Mixing together with hues of brown The walls echo With the words Of some poor karaoke singer In the bar just outside Sober But drunk enough I can hear the steady hum Of the cooler Like a chorus Applauding the singer As he finishes I look at the graffiti On the walls “Hi my name is Martini I like to fool around Call me at 528-4283” Wonder if she really exists I call the number “Hello” a young voice Says from the other end “Is this Martini?” I ask “Yes” “Do you like to fool around?” “Yes” I can tell she’s lying But I go along with it Act my part “Why do you do this?” I ask her an hour latter “You are only seventeen Not even out of high school yet” “Honestly…for the illusion of love” She answers sincerely “Why not have the real thing Instead of the illusion?” She turns over on her side He young pert breasts in plain view She gently caress my hair Twirling it around her fingers “The real thing hurts when it’s over The illusion never does When it’s over I don’t have to worry About the man calling me Taking advantage of me Beating me Then leaving me With nothing but a broken heart” I get up and leave I place a hundred dollar bill On the dresser Next to a worn out copy Of the Holy Bible Placed there by the Gideon’s I drive past my drive way again The car is gone I park in the garage Get myself a beer out of the fridge And lay down on the sofa in the living room The following morning My wife makes bacon and eggs I see the look in her eyes She sees the look in mine We both know What the other did But we still pretend This is the Illusion of love -End-
