Downstairs, halfway dead, s**ing down coffee from a black old fountain. Is your home where you lay your head Or where your fake swordfish is mounted? Eyes-cross, habitually I would leave the room prematurely With a tiny little pile of dark roast grounds Where I once stood just enough there to keep me safe. Rained-out, wrapped right up In our metaphorical overpriced ponchos. Endless rides home, circling the block For the whisper of a word we didn't know how to use in a sentence.
Saw you. Went home. Drank myself silly in the basement alone, And the spiders were showing off a sense of humor on the ceiling, Spinning letters together. I read "we keep you safe." Lost art, lost boy Watching a grown man drink a 211 at 11 a.m. Our old joy! But everything is changing even faster than it was back then. You hold me. It feels like I am finally closing my eyes After a year and a half long day, and I am tired as hell. Listen close, do you know that you keep me safe?