The last time I wore a suit was
my high school prom. A
grateful world has left me,
without funerals to attend.
The last time I wore a jonny,
I danced the wind in dad's room.
Machines that beeped and whirred
were somehow keeping him alive.
When I finally picked the phone up,
we'd already talked, two hours.
The person, your disease has curtained,
read my poems for the camera.
The last time we got high, I wanted you
to hear that Strokes song, and
listen to you list objections, to our
sharing a kiss.
I'll take a dare, and tell the truth
to you, over phenomenal music and
exhaust. I'll be desperate if you promise
to stay as vulnerable as you know how to be.
The last time we took the car together,
I remember you weren't so afraid.
The next time you try being alone with me
I'll insist I shouldn't be driving.
The last few times I'd felt brave enough,
but courage never serves me. If the
Queen's decided not-to, it's as
sure as our demise is.
And all-Earth smells like a lake town,
hurts, just like a headache, can't get
all the ink-out, blinking
at the sky.
The last time I felt so alive we
were driving some way, that you
realized, halfway-there, you're
On a runaway ride out from trouble
the passenger seat always
seems to be
No notes really. Just life.