Ex-boyfriends never go to hell,
\nno matter how many times
\nyou suggest it. No, they ascend straight
\nto heaven, where they speak French,
\nwear matching socks, and always,
\nalways arrive on time, with a full
\ntank of gas and a bottle of wine.
\nThey never curse your cat
\nor your mother, never call you up
\ndrunk doing Arnold Schwarzenegger
\nimpressions, never say Hey Rita
\nif your name is Tammy,
\nnever say Hey Tammy
\nif your name is Joan.
\nThey’re better trained than dogs
\nand they smell better, too, better
\nthan Twinkies or camellias, better
\nthan anything on earth. Once
\nin a while, they take a holiday,
\ndrive their Porsches down
\nthrough the clouds
\nin one long line and ring
\nthe doorbell in your dreams,
\noffering tender apologies, tender
\nchicken cutlets, tender love.
\nBut before you take one sack
\nof groceries, before your lips
\ngraze a clean-shaven jaw,
\nbefore you let one polished
\nOxford loafer through your door,
\nremember that as soon as they cross
\nthe threshold, the truth will slip
\nin behind them: ex-boyfriends only
\nexist this way in heaven, or
\nwhatever you want to call it,
\ntheir new lives without you.
\n~ Gwen Hart from Lost and Found<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Ex-boyfriends never go to hell, no matter how many times you suggest it. No, they ascend straight to heaven, where they speak French, wear matching socks, and always, always arrive on time, with a full tank of gas and a … Continue reading