|My Better Judgement|
by Sean Garcia  /  poetry  /  11 Oct 2007
My better judgment, whom I will call Jim,
Always gives sound advice when I would leap
Off cliffs; and yet I’ve never trusted him.
When I once wondered if I ought to sleep
With the dumb blonde in my French class, he said:
“Who are you kidding, man?
You’ve got a wife
At home: clean house, good food, and a warm bed
Are all a man can ever want from life,
And more than most get.
Don’t be stupid, boy.”
I fucked her anyway, then fell in love;
She played with me and broke me like a toy.
So I ran to my wife; push came to shove.
She took me back, once I said I knew better;
But now Jim says, “You love the blonde. Go get her.”
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