A poem long enough that maybe no one will read it
There is some sort of mystery
about life that I am still unravelling
-
Dom tells me about the rave
she went to last night
maybe I would have gone
but I was so tired and
she said she threw up maybe
three times
-
and I’m telling my brother this
as he drinks the rest of my
Rockstar and eats cold
roast beef with Sriracha
-
and leaves to help Austin
move, “Porque?”
“Porque, no? Estamos
Amigos.”
-
“Bueno.”
-
and I’m joking and
asking “What’s wrong
with capitalism?
-
I got
two Rockstars for
three dollars.” but
-
What does anything mean?
It is always constant and
-
I started a blog that people
are liking and so
they re-blog the pictures I
post but
-
I am still alone in my house
smoking and waiting for
-
always waiting for
-
and there is always something
happening
and I say to it
“No, I am not waiting for
you but
-
-
maybe it changes because it
is not meant to be found
or maybe
it just feels like it’s changing
because it’s always
slipping through your hands
-
so instead I light a new cigarette
and try to learn
another
song
