In someone else’s rocker
On someone else’s porch
At someone else’s house (for a fairly fair monthly rent)
Listening to
Feeling the
Doing that thing it does
Especially when
A heart is empty (and mine is)
How it
Whistles through the narrow gaps of a hope that is broken toothed
Howls through this dusky watercolor valley smeared with noncolors
Moans in the graveyard of final dates and decaying memories
Flips the pages of my calendar (flip, flip, flip) to the un-penciled places
Spills the neighbor’s trash can (and I pick it up)
–Hamburger Helper
–Coffee grounds
–A dull razor blade
–A crushed milk carton
–Q-tips with nose boogers and ear wax
–Ripped pantyhose
(Innocent things)
After which
I resume my rocking
And thinking
And loving
And believing
And not believing
Whatever the fuck
I will write every paragraph (tomorrow)
I will make it all untrue
But for now
I will sit and mope and brood in this world that isn’t mine
Sipping white rum that isn’t mine (I found it hiding in the cupboard)
Where she is
What she’s doing
Who she’s loving
Pacing a planked floor
Walking the plank
Sloshing my drink
Inspired to give this stirring, slurring speech
Telling anybody, everybody, and nobody
The moon and the stars (they’ve heard it all before and don’t give a shit)
But maybe
The family moving behind the yellow lamped windows across the street
Listen boy
Whoever you are…
That woman you are holding tonight
That woman who is no longer mine
I loved her first
God dammit
(Don’t make me blaspheme)
But the rude wind kept talking over me
And nobody
No one heard a single word
Andrew Dabar