to joe

at last, I think I have to say

or admit

that yes, I do think of them

thinking of me

another to be afraid of no more

I'm saving all my irony for hell

apologies to wes

and then the last red drop

that clings to the edge of the glass

a hand replaced

by a beer mug and shot glass

prisms inside one another

the infinite spiraling of possibilities

a trip to the strip club

draft in a plastic cup

sitting next to jackie

waiting to go home

folding up the memory of us--v.2

I.

If I could draw

and see that place

charcoal in hand

away from me

that place, always safe

and locked out from me and the others

but then, I suppose we all use you for something

an object, a slight expose of skin to send

down into that prepositional phase

down here now

II.

wonder how much longer I can deny

so much a part of all the places

which are mine

a pair of shoes

card board boxes with her hand writing

kept and taped over, moved with me

a bed I finally gave away, sheets I don't sleep on anymore

emily's bed

my wedding bed and stained with caroline as well

adrian there too and amy

how will I remember my first wife

what will she become when I'm at the end of life

the end of that fear, or the fear of admitting it

if I think about her as I die

III.

I will never forget the look on nik's face when I told her

in the harmony room

that I didn't love her anymore

and watched her walk, dazed from the upper lobby of the music building

the death of that perfect love, her small hands

wrapped in mine

dm

v.3

21 March 2010