I won't tell you
when I arrive "in town"
I'll lurk among the streets
that hold your name
in the pocket of their sidewalks
I'll crawl among the bars
that snicker with gross amusement
while I drown in ***** irony
I'll kick out the color
of the fallen leaves
That I fell with last week
for you
at the foot of your fashion-forward boots
I'll hug on strangers
that have that same
curled smile
and sad one-note expression
that you do
and I'll dance until every pore
is rid of the memory of your touch
and I'll swig every stout
until my thoughts can't even grasp
the memory of your name.