of the “L” word
I’m barefoot and fresh from
a longtime cafe with
a broken lamp
after a couple of dates
one of the dryers
downstairs is
messed up again
it’s screwed
and this morning
I laughed at
it’s a boombox bag
on your back
at Border’s
it’s obvious
so much for a
decade of difference
anyway
nothing compares
or has changed
or is seemingly regretted
the “L” word
keeps calling
a few times
he’s buttered
the flies in his
Warner Bros. mug
a Hawaiian shirt
an ode to a
heart racing with vodka
and a cool breeze
coming in from the north
