Aside

Measure me in metered lines, in one decisive stare,

The time it takes to get from here to there.

My ribs that show through t-shirts and these shoes I got for free;

I'm unconsoled, I'm lonely.

I am so much better than I used to be.

Terrified of telephones and shopping mall,

And knives, and drowning in the pools of over lives.

Rely a bit to heavily on alcohol and irony.

Get clobbered on by courtesy, in love with love, and lousy poetry.

And I'm leaning on a broken fence between Past and Present tense.

And I'm losing all these stupid games that I swore I'd never play.

And it almost feels okay.

Circumnavigate this body of wonder and uncertainty.

Armed with every previous failure, and amateur cartography,

I breathe in deep before I spread these maps out on my bedroom floor.

Leaving. Wave goodbye.

Losing, but I'll try, with the last ways left, to remember.

Sing my imperfect offering.