Downstairs, halfway dead,
Sucking down coffee from a black old fountain.
Is your home where you lay your head
Or where your fake swordfish is mounted?
I would leave the room prematurely
With a tiny little pile of dark roast grounds
Where I once stood just enough there to keep me safe.
Rained-out, wrapped right up
In our metaphorical overpriced ponchos.
Endless rides home, circling the block
For the whisper of a word we didn't know how to use in a sentence.
Saw you. Went home.
Drank myself silly in the basement alone,
And the spiders were showing off a sense of humor on the ceiling,
Spinning letters together. I read "we keep you safe."
Lost art, lost boy
Watching a grown man drink a 211 at 11 a.m.
Our old joy!
But everything is changing even faster than it was back then.
You hold me. It feels like I am finally closing my eyes
After a year and a half long day, and I am tired as hell.
Listen close, do you know that you keep me safe?