Three Poems

After the sun sets on

The fifth and final day of

The twelve seasons of unhappiness

I will unfold the letter

From the boy in Amsterdam.

Under the western stars

At the center of humanity

I will meet him in the time between

Functional and happy.

Only then will I understand how small

The world really is.

Meet me just west of

The old gas station where we used to

Drink and smoke and hate the world

In the parking lot

Under the lamplight at midnight

I will give you the kiss you’ve been waiting for

And you will give me the disappointment

I always knew you would.

I am not in this world to love

Or be loved

But to thrive in the bad weather

And appreciate the poor timing.