you've forgotten it.
you've forgotten me.
you've misplaced watery wrists.
I have done the same dance of dissonance.
the toilet in the comedy club
shown decades of love and loss,
dreams and regret, and lots of cocaine,
but I was there to do a solid ten and move on.
I didn't want to bother anyone,
but I met a Victor and his Taylor,
both of whom were good looking
and I really wanted to fuck her,
mainly because she laughed at my jokes the most.
I went on around 9:30pm
and bombed, but that is what
I was expecting in Boca Raton, Florida,
a place filled with self-hating Jews
and sidewalk iguanas.
Afterwards, I met a man named Yoni
who was kind and far from a fan,
but we drank and pissed on the stars,
talking about being young and dumb,
best part turns out we know some of the same peeps.
new people don't know how to ask about life,
it is no one's fault, it is just a thing,
and Yoni asked me about love,
and I retorted with another question,
love of my life or love that will suffice?
He said both,
and so I said that I have always
loved a girl who doesn't love me, you,
and that the girl I am with now
is worthy of love but deserves more than mine.
Honestly, he didn't know what to do with that info,
but I found the sky and the reasons why,
continuing the reckoning in my head
and the explanations later, knowing
not everyone is a hopeless romantic like me.
The Sunday ended with beer and bacon,
and stupid typewriters, but the resonance
remained and I wanted to tell these fools
that I will never be the same,
because of a her called Somewhere, twice.
And then I went on stage
and told a story about falling in love,
and blow jobs in stairwells,
and I made the people laugh,
and they asked me about the truth of it all afterwards.