HOW MY MIND MOVES THROUGH THE SUNSET HOUR

ON A SUMMER EVENING WITHOUT YOU.

LAST NIGHT WASN’T A MOVIE,

BUT MORE SO AN EPISODE OF TV.

SOMETIMES THE SHOW

GETS TOO STUPID,

THAT YOU CAN’T EVEN FINISH IT.

WE WALK PAST A CROWD OF PEOPLE,

AND THE SMELL OF BO

REMINDS ME

OF FALLING ASLEEP

IN HIS ARMPIT.

WE THEN TALK ABOUT

THE FUNNIEST NAMES

TO CALL SOMEONE

AN ALCOHOLIC,

AND MY MIND PLUMMETS

TO THE THOUGHTS

OF HOW I CAN

NEVER DO ANYTHING

RIGHT.

AS IF I HAVEN’T

WRITTEN

SO MUCH ABOUT THIS

ALREADY.