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  • Jimmy Broccoli

Awkwardness: The Lullaby I Reluctantly Sing

I’m at the city park – and this guy…

he’s sitting on the steps – not far from the dock (by the park lake) –

with his two dogs – they are yappers – and they are cute as fuck –

and he ain’t too bad either


He’s in a tank top (I’ve never been confident enough to pull that off)

And his dogs look at me as I decline the concrete stairs –

“Hi”, I say – because my therapist tells me I should be more social

“Hi”, he says (the guy, not the dogs – they just pant)

– and suddenly I discover I have limited social skills


I, then, walk down the dirt path by the park lake –

I came here to feed the ducks –

I brought cracked corn –

and, underneath my arm, I carry paperback Baudelaire


A few minutes later – the guy and his dogs are walking towards me –

Down the dirt path by the park lake -

and the ducks, as I feed them –

there are fucking dozens of ducks up on the dock because I have cracked corn –

he (the handsome guy) and his dogs gets closer, and I take the earbud out of my ear –

he might have something interesting to say (and I want to talk to him) –

though I am too shy to know what to say

“Hi”, I say –

and he smiles and says, “Hi”.

his smile is like 1,000 suns – or whatever the fuck poets might say –

he has a nice smile and I think I might give him my phone number –

and I totally don’t know what is going on –

I’m bold on paper – not so much in real-time


“You’re handsome”, I spit out, reluctantly –

and then I immediately regret it

“Okay, that was bold”, he snickers

“I’m Jimmy”

“I’m Rex…

you brought a book to the park.?”, he speaks –

“Yeah”, I speak –

“it’s mid-nineteenth century French poetry”


“No shit (?)” he says or asks –

and his profanity impresses me

“Do you and your dogs want to join me – to feed the ducks?”, I ask –

as I’m kind of dying inside


The dogs sit next to me, panting and happy

– he (the handsome guy) is 2 feet away – and he smiles –

and I think “holy fuck – holy fucking shit – fucking fuck” – and somehow,

I think he can read my mind as I internally and outwardly blush –

he smiles again (at me) mischievously

I hand him a handful of cracked corn and…

it’s messy – kind of like me right now –

and he throws it haphazardly towards the ducks on the dock –

he isn’t paying much attention – to the ducks –

he’s sitting here with me – and I throw more food at the ducks –

and am also barely paying attention to them


I want to ask him to walk with me –

perhaps to the main dock where we might sit and talk –

- to get to know each other – for me to pet his dogs -

I’m out of cracked corn and the ducks are swimming away

– my social skills sit still and silent – as they betray me

I look at the nearby skyscrapers because I don’t know the words to say

He smiles at me – wearing his very handsome tank top –

holding the leashes of two very cute dogs –

one, whose head is resting on my leg


I stand up – “it was really nice to meet you”, I say (somewhat panicked)

“You too”, he says, “You Too”.


I walk several feet in front of him – and look back (at him) –

he (and his dogs) - walking towards something that is not in the direction I am traveling


And I immediately regret being socially awkward –


-and really wish I knew what the fuck is wrong with me


Photo: Jimmy Broccoli holding "The Flowers of Evil".




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