(A while ago I had a gmail blogger account and posted this. One of my favorite poets,Misti Rainwater-Lites posted a nice comment about it. Sure it could have been a Misti imposter, but I like to tell myself it was really her.)
I keep asking myself the question………… Did Tony ever fuck Angela? I want to know, I want to know badly. If he did, I think it would have gone something like this:
Tony approached her right after he finished vacuuming the drapes. She had probably just returned home from a hard day of work at her advertising agency. She was standing by the door teasing her Grayish-streaked hair, almost inviting him to taste her middle-aged grapes.
“Hey Angela, you are looking pretty hot standing there by the door. Why don’t you come a little closer so I can fuck you up the ass,” Tony would quip.
“Oh Tony, you are so boorish, so Italian, so ruggedly…………….. what time is dinner,” Angela would blush and retreat to the kitchen.
Then Mona would enter the room, arm entwined with a an old drunk who resembled Bukowski. Tony and Angela could both smell the sex on her breath as she paraded around the room with the misguided confidence only shared by Blanche from the Golden Girls. Continue reading