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