(if it loses me), I left my number
on the table by the door. I thought
I would mean something if I just
booked it. and took everything
I had to my name, as a poet
and a whore, and mobbed out.

(I figured, if you had anything left
that still loved me; it wouldn't really
be something I'd want to take with me.)

take whatever's left
and throw it
off the 101 freeway.