Unused

She Called the Hospital

If I were a better liar,

a better chess player...

If I had the type of mind

that sees social strategy

I never, even being so

very young, would have

walked into her office

and told her the truth.

They were the philanthropists.

They were brilliant.

They were lovers of men.

But me? My truth wasn't OK.

When asked whether it was

a matter of pounds or dollars

I should have said dollars.

Less exotic, more common.

It cost me the sort of chance,

the once in a lifetime

opportunity, that I carry guilt

for having already had too many.

Maybe it's not guilt.

Perhaps that's shame.

Either way, the redux is:

I'm a horrible liar.

She told me stories

of hearing Jerry Springer

in the background blaring.

In those days you could smoke.

That I didn't have a room

That they wouldn't give her

any information about me

gave rise to suspicion.

I called my bank and...

the machine voice told me

in so many words that

I had several thousand.

I left. I still could have lied.