Cinco de Mayo de Ocho

As I gaze onto the grass where we never laid our heads

while lounging on cushions

where we spent so much time

biding our time for when we could be alone,

Reaching out to me with another string of small words

and an unknown unformed future

of which I may or may not be a part,

Sometime later today the alcohol will flow once more into my

veins cut open by the knife still telling me

it’s not worth it,

And when I imagine actions I have never before done

they are as titillating as those still-familiar but now gone,

I don’t know if this is interlude or beginning or end

everything stretched before me in the sun

like that picture I’ve heard in my head,

I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what to say

(May 5th, 2008)