Love Song

I met a young woman on the street today,

playing guitar next to the pier.

            “For a dollar I’ll play you a love song,” she said.

I put a five in her guitar case.

            “I don’t like love songs,” I said.

She smiled. “Maybe you’ll like this one.”

She fingered a chord and began to sing,

about a girl who loved a boy,

about roses and fists and bloody lips,

broken dishes, apologies, tears.

When she left

she could hear him yelling,

You’ll never find someone as good as me!

She stopped her singing and looked at me.

            “Now I live in the women’s shelter,” she said.

            I eat at the soup kitchen on nineteenth.

            I’m enrolled in community college,

            and on the weekends, I play my guitar

            and sing my love song:

I hope to god I never find someone as good as him.