1499Y2

I was drinking Johnny Walker

straight from the bottle

sometime around 4

somewhere in Charlotte

standing in a parking lot

trying to figure out

how to get you to stay.

If you were God herself

I would have shunned you.

I felt my cock strain

against my pants

when you drove off.

So pleased with my self flagellation

I invited you back the next night

so you could watch me

drink myself to death

and refuse to love you.

I’ve been stuck in those hours

for five years.

It’s taken almost two thousand days

for me to realize

you loved me despite the whiskey bottles sour faces and

my cold arms

my cold bed

and not because

of the drinking

the bad poetry

the stiffness of my body

next to yours

awash with the desire to rise

to drink until God herself

greets me with two dozen

golden doves.

I thought I was

something good.

I really did.

Sometimes.

I still want to watch you

your terrycloth robe

your hair up

eat cereal

against the kitchen counter.