© 2010 Rose Hunter

Even

So I wouldn't call the cab
you broke my phone
then gave me yours to
break so we could call it
even. I ripped the top off
slaughtered it in the pool.
Then took a dining chair,
heaved it over the rail. Added:
the remote, keyboard; other
things. In the morning
you were in your chair
in front of the TV, the same
but with smudges
on your slouched back;
variegations; which made you a
chimera, breathing
the usual, eighty proof,
your damp hair a mane
with leaves attached.
            Had to shake a tree
            to get the keyboard.
On the way back, you
sat in the chair,
rested. Waved to a tourist.
You didn't find the mouse
you said. I didn't
throw the mouse, I said.
            Yes, you did. Then
you fixed my phone. Yours
was not so lucky.