it’s about
time
i came over,
before the plane
disappeared
and the bombs
dropped
and the dog parks
emptied with
fresh coats
falling over soiled snow.
everyone
following single
file over
the cliff.
but we
don’t have
to.
you’ve
got the book of love now, i
left
it
on your
coffee table
blank of
opinion. There’s
a pen
on the floor
use it,
i won’t walk away.
use it,
while the thought
of me
still exorcises
the loneliness in you.
fill those pages
now,
you will
when
the yellow birds
fly away,
but i want you to remember me
like this,
carrying you over
the garbage piles
on thompson st
frozen
over
like igloos
for
the
rats
it’s about time
i
came over,
for coffee at
midnight
for
sunrise bedtime.
remember me
spilling
wine
ducking pigeons on your stoop. you’ve
got the pen,
use it,
you saved
me from
that place
i go all
the time
but barely
mention.
i thought it would
be a book deal,
or a better job
or a good song.
but
it never is.
just a look
from
the girl
who was
never broken by the world.
a runny nose
and an underserved smile
was all it took
to escape the firing squad
of my mind