Could you, Burt?
Not surprised
No, not surprised
Go over to the fridge
And see if that sandwich is still there
You didn't eat it, did you?
Did you eat it, Burt?
Guess you had to ruin the whole night, didn't you?
Not just part of it
She came in from the parking lot
With her dress half off
Maybe the men didn't notice
But the women sure did
Then in you come
Trying not to smile
You should have just smiled, Burt
I can tell when you're trying not to anyway
So you should have just grinned like a bastard
Instead of trying to pretend like you're a good little boy
Good little boys
Don't fuck little girls
In their car
While their wife
Is inside an art gallery
Swishing her wine around in her glass
Wondering why she isn't drunk yet
What's the matter, Burt?
Did the pictures bore you?
Were you bored?
Is that why you decided to take that little girl out
To our car
So she could drawer you some new pictures
Using the fog on the glass?
Don't I have a way with imagery?
Remember how I was going to be a writer?
Remember how I was going to do nothing but write
And you were going to pay my way
And give me everything I needed
What happened to that, huh Burt?
What happened to me being a big-time writer?
When did I stop writing, Burt?
Do you remember?
What was it--twenty? Twenty-two years ago?
When we gave up Lizzie
Oh, I know
You don't like when I call her that
My little Lizzie
Who you didn't want
You thought I didn't know
But I knew
I knew all about it
I knew you didn't want something
Standing in the doorway
In case you ever got the balls to leave
That's why I gave her up
So you could have a getaway car
Don't tell me you didn't want it
You just didn't want to ask for it
You sure as shit didn't object, did you?
Why?
Because I said I wasn't ready to be a mom?
I already was one, Burt
Didn't I hold her?
Didn't I cry over her?
Didn't I cry when they took her away?
You ever wonder what happened to her?
I know I used to
I used to think about it all the time...
How old do you think that girl is, huh?
The girl from tonight
The artist girl
The girl who draws the pictures
How old would you say she is?
Twenty?
Twenty-two?
Don't tell me you didn't fuck her, Burt
Just tell me how old you think she is
If you didn't fuck her
What does it matter how old she is?
You shouldn't care
You should be able to make an educated guess
Guilt shouldn't be holding you back
From thinking about her
And coming up
With at least a ballpark figure
Just take a guess
You like her pictures?
I been following her for awhile
The papers say she has real talent
A real creative type
Did you find that, Burt?
Did you find her pictures creative?
Is that what you liked about her?
That she was artistic?
Don't find me that way anymore, do you?
Bored with me, huh?
But I bet looking at her
Was like popping your eyes
Into a time machine
What?
You didn't think she looked like me
Oh, I disagree with you there, Burt
I disagree completely
I think she looks very similar
Except for her eyes
Her eyes are muddy brown
Shit brown eyes
Not like mine
At least your eyes never change
Sometimes I think that's the only thing about you
That doesn't change
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