There's a metal cup
of coffee getting cold
somewhere in a house
where someone has
forgotten that
they even made it
because the weight
of living in this place
and the amount
of money owed
has taken hold
ruining
a silent
moment
I keep a brass bowl of paperclips from a man that didn't want to even give all of it away but he had to because there was no use for anything like that anymore sometimes I stare at it and wonder if th
it's days like this with the sun blaring and the birds calling with mowers in the distance that I know I wasn't made for summer but I can't help feel the flickering neon lights of anticipation in the
I wish I could have taken that place with it's long benches heavy tables cheerful bartender and put it in my hometown but we all know the charm of places like that is that you can drink knowing happil
