5/30

The Unfortunate Gangbang of Deidra Thomas (or Shawnee State University circa 1997)

When I arrived on campus, my back heavy with short term survival
I made a list of don’ts the length of my hair
before the scissors
Don’t forget to call mother
Don’t engage in anything until the last book
is closed
Don’t bleed at the first cut
at least not when men are watching

Walter, however, is razor blade cute
he makes this girl forget she is legally beautiful on some days
and I wish his smile was more trash pickup
than Phoenix sunrise for my sake
But I smile
I just smile when he passes thru the gym
his roommates flanking him like wings on a fighter jet
Maybe more leg and less yellow dress
I wonder how many women math majors he knows
if he’s ever had a tutor worth staring at

I know, I don’t want my strapless heels to exceed
my gaze. I have a pocket watch in my stomach
the knobs have been fondled by many
but Walter seems like he could wind my insides with his eyes alone
we finally talked last night on the steps of the athlete house
if he owns a sickle, his words would sever all my inhibitions
but he took nothing
just the reluctant post it with my cell number on it
I thought it premature to preselect a ring tone
especially since he hasn’t called
I wonder what offended him more
that the small, two stop light town of Waverly, OH
could produce 16 men that I’ve slept with
or that none of them were black like us
I wonder
if he really cares about such things

There is a party at his house tonight
maybe a size up on the earrings
a size down on the blouse would be appropriate. I’ll have company
at least for the first couple of hours. Walter
is a gentlemen, I feel really good about this

The wicked hour has approached and Walter has not shown
the DJ has wrapped my hips in silk tonight
and this 4th drink is blowing bubbles under my skirt
the dance floor is a beehive and I am the linoleum’s queen
hands and fingers and breath are worker bees falling under my spell
by the time I see the bottom of my 6th bottle
I am a broken heel and a blouse that no longer buttons. I imagine this
to be Walter’s room, the walls covered in men graffiti and light
hoping he is among the collage
then rethinking it. I imagine Walter has seen me prettier than this
when the first one makes himself at home
I stop feeling sexy
I feel illegal, a violation against my own skin. There are centipedes
the size of tigers crawling my neck
I think
I said no
to somebody

I awake to a rough toweling from my roommate. There are bruises, fluid that doesn’t
belong to me. Thread the length of regret spills from my skirt. I wish that were the only drip
we scurry away from ground zero, the owner a mystery to me. Definitely not Walter
definitely not my intention to look like
a car accident when I spent two hours in the bathroom

I haven’t called my mother in 3 weeks. There is the fear that either my brother
or father will answer
and I will freeze like a Polaroid
I scarcely remember their faces, my brother’s Easter suit, my father’s funeral uniform
during his mother’s passing
its how I remember the men during my wake
a plaid shirt
the navy pullover
a yellow polo pulled up to the chest

Walter is a brown sweater when I run into him
he apologizes for being an athlete, a man, for not showing up the night I was buried
he tells me he no longer lives there, that he hopes he can transfer his credits
and not his memories for next quarter
I say nothing
to myself, I compliment his sweater