Poetry: Beach Girl Blues by Stephen J. Golds
Beach Girl Blues
She laughed a lot.
That short, brittle kind of nervous laughter of one that has suffered constantly and needlessly.
She reminded me of a dog in a pound.
One of the beautiful ones
that have been thrown away
because the owners couldn’t love something more than they loved themselves.
We were both sick and I often wondered how all the damaged and wounded ones found me
or if it was I who found them.
When she told me she was a prostitute
I wasn’t really surprised.
I simply asked her why’d
she do that if she had a
masters degree in psychology?
She didn’t answer and I didn’t ask her anymore questions like that.
When we said our goodbyes,
if you could call it that,
she was still laughing that same laugh and
I was relieved I wouldn’t have to hear
that sad sound any more.
I do sometimes think about her and again wonder if she found the person that could
fix her, in all the ways I couldn’t or
Stephen J. Golds was born in North London, U.K, but has lived in Japan for most of his adult life. He writes primarily in the noir and dirty realism genres and is the co-editor of Punk Noir Magazine. He enjoys spending time with his daughters, reading books, traveling the world, boxing and listening to old Soul LPs. His books are Say Goodbye When I’m Gone, I’ll Pray When I’m Dying, Always the Dead, Poems for Ghosts in Empty Tenement Windows I Thought I Saw Once, Cut-throat & Tongue-tied, Bullet Riddled & Gun Shy and the story and poetry collection Love Like Bleeding Out With an Empty Gun in Your Hand.