Ladies Night: Redux

Guest Blogger, Shelli Martineau, lyrically illustrates a good-old-fashioned Ladies Night.

Hey All, Mediocre Mama asked me to guest blog for her today. I was going to write on being a childless 26 year-old, who really only "mothers" two cats and a bi-polar husband, but instead, while digging through my blogging notes and half-scribbled ideas on mediocrity I stumbled upon this poem written the day after THIS POST by Mediocre Mama. I thought you might enjoy another perspective on our drunken girl's night out. :)




mon amie, my amy

perched precariously on your
mother's lawn chairs we
clink wine glasses and
trade secrets with
the cigarettes passed
between
us

the only object in focus
out in late october air
is your hand,
soft.. fluttering with
each story and idea
across waves of experience and
past pains

we are negotiating our
relationship again
across the table from each other
confessing past cold behavior
and absolving each other with
holy wine and crosses made
to bear.

the tension that held us
together, yet apart, like
loveable in-laws
has been torn and shredded
by mental manicurists

I wasn't aware my brain's cuticles
needed trimming.
but, thankfully, you are a diva
with a pair of shears

you cut through bullshit
and guilt like a hot knife
through a cliche stick of b--
yes, like bourbon

yes, like a hot knife through butter
you slice through
that guy on the unicycle (who
is such an asshole)
you slice off my excess baggage
like leftover lovers
those who cling to my belt loops and
beg another ride

when all I wanna do is
stop life. stop work. stop stopping
and have a drink with
mon amie,
my amy


Take the night off ladies!
-Shelli