Four Months Later

In the moments after moments I notice I've been happy,
and think, gently, "that wasn't so bad"
usually on my bicycle,
usually with friends
in the evening, in the marches, in the go-around, paint still on my hands.

What changed:
the final line
is every slightly less confessional, heartbroken
slightly less about you.
I feel good in the cold sunshine, confident.
and then I catch myself
silently telling you so.

Yelling to you:
I don't need you
Waiting for the day I won't bother to yell.

This is also in-between: not clinging and not over.
Filing away all thoughts of togetherness under "next october"
one year later.
far enough away to hope that when I get there
I won't want you any more.

Both Sides Up

on the subway and in the mornings, turning over the idea of no downside in my head,
I felt it easing in to place at last today.
landing both sides up
on my bicycle, finally picked up from the shop.


yes:
transition: taking time for progress, control. . neither bad to or from good.
yes:
longing:choosing the bravery to desire instead of wait.

What we need is not to be loved but to love.
Not to be needed but to do.

I'm With Pizza

Can it, comment drone, saying something for the sake of something.
Someone for the sake of someone.
Quieten, won't you.
Your peace is not defeat,
it will elevate,
You, be the hook that resets the pole vault bar,
it's not rocket science.
Peace be peace for silence.

HUNG UP

Envious of that

rotary phone reality,

hip forward walk

through the screen door

to the sound of a ring

(some things are actual),

and I’m still

hung up on her.

If she were perfume

she’d be named

Reason To Live

and all the lonely

dogs and goats would

buy her by the bottle

at the drugstore,

coat their bodies in her mist,

cloak their lazy head colds,

the sheets of their death beds,

sleepily shut their  

heavy liquor lids

to the sound of

the spray.

the Bus station

Three day weekend
Staying out late
Singing karaoke
Early rise
Sex and showers
The bus gets in early but there's a transfer in a hour
There's no worse place to spend a hour
Than a bus station
A man lectures a teenager about the bad choices he made that got him stuck here then pats an employee on the back as he wipes windex on a display case
Everyone is grunting and sighing
And farting next to me

curfew

a promise now

to stay on cold streets

until almost midnight

to feel moments are 

adding up

to be some sort

of

best time