Kristen de Kline #125 Psycho Ex

I
I had three cigarettes left
two Tiger beers, a packet of Smiths crisps
I was reading a poem about the girls at the green hotel I was
thinking about you
summer  had gone  
colour bleached out  
you thought
you could break my  heart in two
it's true    

II
the cop takes notes   studies the screen shots   captured
on the shattered mobile face    shards of glass pinch

into the tips of her index fingers   it's sort of
ironic    white chalk on the asphalt   the lawless

calling on the law   the cop asks what you do for a living
scribbles down UNDISCLOSED LOCATION 9999

III
I'm walking up the driveway
you're standing at the kitchen window staring out at me
somebody's cranked up the TV volume, real
high   Joan Crawford's screaming: I told you no wire hangers      ever ...
Baby Jane serves up offerings to Blanche   dead parakeets
cellar rats     I'm alone in the back bedroom dabbing
blood onto a Kleenex saying: oh shit,
not again  

I crack open a Tiger   light a
cigarette   listen to the darkness ricocheting

hear the howling waltz up and down the gravel drive
the freeway skyline is brushed over with the hazy

grey of the Melbourne winter   it all seems a long,
long way   away     if I drive the getaway car all night

all day   I might just make it
some place   else