There is a girl with a green shirt
and a tanned stomach
talking to a boy that is nothing but that.
A boy.
His hands are shaking
at the weight of his companions voice.
She is too beautiful for him.
They are all too beautiful for the boys
that wear khaki shorts
and striped tees.
The sky is clear.
My cigarette burns red.
My coffee is bitter.
Life is good
but life will be better tomorrow.
My father wanted to hangout again tonight.
His meetings are going to run pretty late
so we won't go see that movie.
That's fine
and I understand
so more than likely I'll just sit here and read poetry.
Maybe write something.
I will continue to try
and stop smoking.
The sky is getting darker.
Shadows are growing longer.
My coffee is nearly empty.
Life is good
but life is going to be better tomorrow.
My mother is worried about me.
She found my tattoos
and asked me
why would you do that to yourself?
I told her
i was intoxicated
and that
brandon did it
This didn't spare me the talk
about drinking alcohol
and what it will
eventually do to you.
I didn't have the heart to tell her that I am
already an alcoholic.
A **** good one at that.
The mosquitoes are coming out.
A man is playing the flute.
I have four dollars in my pocket.
Life is good
but life is going to be better tomorrow.
The boy touches her thigh now.
He is sitting next to her crossed legs
and is somehow moving closer to her without actually moving.
She smiles now.
It reminds me of you.
They all remind me of you.
Life is good
but life is going to be better tomorrow.
Tomorrow will always be better
with you.