The Next Step

You fucking pig

You loser

You have no idea

What you’re doing.

This young police officer

finally laced on the handcuffs.

“The first step...” they told me.

They were incredibly white

and kind,
but it was obvious 

that the first step was getting out

of the handcuffs.
And I did.

I took them up on their advice,

went back and found the people

I had hurt by simply being present
in their lives
and I said:

I’m sorry I’m a pig fucker.

I’m a loser.

I have no idea what I’m doing.

And they smiled and let someone else

lead me away;

they wanted to see if I'd figured out the next step;

they wouldn't be the ones flying through the air 

if I hadn't learned a damned thing—you can count on that!

Well, I never took that step,

but I haven't fallen over either.

As they float away to marriage land
I look up the wedding dresses

and yell:

"If you’re going to heaven, you owe me one! 

Show me those panties! Just one last time!"

And they do,
but in a medical way,

and I see handcuffs stashed in the lace.

That's smart, I figure.
but sadder than hell too.