If you ask my friends what I've become
They'll start singing song lyrics
"Tried to find you t the bottom of a bottle, laying down on the bathroom floor"
"You're gone and she's gotta stay high, all the time, to keep you off her mind"
And by God they wouldn't be wrong.
I've taken up these habits and made them my own
Creating my own personal bubble that's headed straight for hell
I'm not saying what I've become is all your fault
But you certainly contributed to my status.
My chain smoking, my drug use, my increased alcohol consumption
My need to drive dangerously fast, stepping into traffic, my laying on blacktops
To everyone I know, it's as if I'm certainly flirting with Death
And I guess its true
And I'm not taking 100% of the blame
Some of it is on you.

A man sits diagonally in front of me
to my left in the diner
Over his shoulder, I see
he’s navigating Facebook
on a cheap laptop
Behind him, I’m writing this poem
Every 13 seconds a notification rings
He has a Facebook message
The notifications are messages from a woman
She types heart shapes in place of words
It is the standard online flirtation
that has replaced real relationships
He is quite popular
as he eats toast with purple jelly
and sits alone

People once came to diners
to chain smoke cigarettes
and drink pots of coffee
and think
and talk
and read poetry
We didn’t have much
but we had each other
Now we’re individuals
who sit in silence
alone

Some of us get chat notifications
Some of us write poems
All of us still get the coffee
and the toast
with purple jelly

supple and orange to the taste
like a water slide to a desert
in a wild goose chase
just a hair short of a bone
ninety nine of the smallest ones

cracked open ventilating
dancing vapor
a slow shift in flowing feel.
soak up the gray
you turn to cellophane

only on the inside
you're alright
the ball keeps on rolling
around that big old fire

the cushion smiled
warmed by your seat
pressed into a drowse
you catch the change

wonder the time
about that
settled cataracts
smooth rolling cadillacs
big old Adirondack
smiling in the cottage.

A race against the dust and the soaking fabric.
Sprinting into a storm of scattered perfect spheres.
Split the grain and burn the cells to make the cut.
Tell the ones responsible to blame it on the weather.
Water the plants as they dissolve to ethane.
Crumpled mangled heap of old dried up Ohio.

Memories of pie that turned to rage
Pie rage tastes so delicious in the spring.
Jars can contain little love but lots of herbs
The right elephant will find the carousel
When the day of dust comes rabbits see.
The shrews and field mice will finally breathe.

Love amongst rodents will never evaporate
The sky can’t contain the weight of solitude
The sky is much lonelier than the sun
Tell the post office about the new light
They can spread the word to the right people

That is if you tell the right man.

I have noticed that you only pay attention to me on the days that she pays none to you
On the days when you are craving affection from anyone who will deliver it to you in the worst way
When she cannot follow through with the promises she tells you on the nights that she feels like it
I hate myself for still loving you on the same days that she does
The days where you are glued to her side simply because she will let you
You told me, "You are everything I want in a girl, but I still love someone else"
I am learning that even though I may love on the same day she chooses to, I will not succumb to your beckoning call anymore
I know that I am only mimicking you answering to her
I am working on getting strong enough to press decline
So the next time you call me, I will pick up the phone
Hold it in my hand, feel the humming vibration reverberate throughout my body, down my spine
I will let it go to voicemail
Because there is no use in letting someone drink the rest of your water
When they are on the brink of dying from dehydration anyways