The Jackalope’s Lament
Joe the Jackalope stared at the clock.
Louise was late again. He didn’t know
why he ever gave her a second look,
other than their kind was so rare. Mating
during lightning flashes without hurting
each other on those antlers was fraught
with risks. So he took what he could
get. Took some Viagra, some Cialis.
Took whatever it took. A few antidepressants
to get through the day. A few drinks
after work, to get through the day.
And now Louise was late again? Jesus,
what he wouldn’t give (takes another swallow)
to have a mate who pays attention to
where she’s supposed to be. Instead, she’s
out playing tricks on campers or singing
with their choir camp or some like. After
all he’s sacrificed (at least this whiskey is good).
Did he not bleed? Did he not suffer his way
across the wilderness just to bring her
whatever she wanted?
You can spin stars into silk, Joe thought,
but that doesn’t make things better.
Joe sighed and sunk further into
his armchair, alone in another storm.