my belly rumbles
under the morning table,
and my head pounds above it.
doing the same thing
I was doing ten years ago:
listening to Band of Horses
and writing poems
about a girl I love.
where am I?
I am here?
in this foul year
of forever.
I am laying
on Big Four Bridge
after a free/stolen brunch.
Spilling sips of coffee,
counting breaths and boats.
The sky is blue and beautiful;
the clouds leave fast.
Joggers avoid my body,
as if I am the crazy one.
my earbuds aren't working,
so I hum the song,
and write the poem in my mind,
which I have done many times.
I want to forget.