Aubade Poem by Bert Bell

Dawn has just
broken and
I’m sitting reading
the early morning
paper with my
coffee when Bambi
appears in the
kitchen doorway.

“This isn’t working out, ”
she says, “I’m leaving.”
“What’s not working
out? ” I say.
“This, ” she says.
“This what? ”
“This relationship.”

“I don’t get it, ” I say.
“Isn’t it obvious, Josh? ”
she says.
“Not to me, it isn’t.”
“Well, ” she says,
“it’s pretty
clear to me.”

I say, “But, last night
was our first date.”
“So what? ” she says.
“Well, ” I say, “did I
do, or say
something that
upset you? ”

“No, ” she says,
“It’s not you;
it’s me.”
“Yes, of course, ” I say,
that makes sense.”
“Why? ’ she says, her
voice rising,
“do you think there’s
something wrong
with me? ”

“Heck no, Bambi, ” I say,
'there must be
something
wrong with me.”
“Of course, she says,
that’s why I’m leaving.”

“Mind explaining
what it is? ” I say.
“Cut it out, Josh, ”
she says, “as if you
didn’t know.”

“I don’t, honestly.” I say,
“is it my inheritance? ”
“What inheritance? ”
she says in a much
softer tone.
“I don’t like talking about
it, ” I say, “but I’m the only
heir to an enormous
family fortune.”

“I didn’t know that, ” she says.
“Well, ” I say, “I don’t boast
about it. I want people
to like me for who I am, and
not for my multi-billion
dollar consortiums.”

“I’m so sorry, ” she says,
“I didn’t mean to be
rude. I drank too
much last night and
I’m not myself this
morning.”

“No need to apologize, ”
I say, “I know how
enormous wealth
can make some girls
uncomfortable.
Your decision, I’m sure,
will prove beneficial
to us both. Goodbye,
Bambi, it’s been fun.
You can see yourself out.”

“Can we go out again? ” she says.
“I don’t know, Bambi, ” I say,
“I think excessive wealth
might be too stressful
for you. I’ll see you around
the office.”
She leaves without saying
goodbye.

I tidy up the opulent
apartment I'm house-sitting
for my boss and smile
all the way back to my
roach-infested room
above a Deli on
West Thirty-Fourth Street
and jot down this poem.