Stolen Advice: Turns out - I DID take Note.

Digital Post-it About Last Night (A Fathers Day Fugue?)

image from www.jburdimages.com

You told me once your mother just cuts people out.

Should have taken note
Tequila brings the breech back
And the illusion of eloquence 

I dab my eyes with a napkin 
From the Mexican joint on 187th
We were only here once
You are here still

I want to tell you about the void 
The brutal chart here 
Now you're gone

But I speak up and you build walls
Wall after wall

I know you hear me
(Don't I?) 

Tequila loosens the tongue

Sometimes even Mormons should get drunk
Once a decade

You tell me it's me who wouldn't talk to you
And not the other way around

Teach me

Texas style

I'm willing to learn

More napkin sapping
Sorry sopping

Drunk typing. 

The neighboring tables must see the canyons on my face
Salt and water
Nautical Crack

And the place where you used to be
More napkins

I keep looking to the naught in the tree
My masthead
Where you could see me

My neck doesn't stretch that long 

And Rivers

Even Mormons should drink tequila sometimes

If they've ever known you

There aren't enough napkins
To bridge it

Nor tequila neither 

I look out at the associated foods where I sit
And the chase bank

And our freeway drive to Denton
I paid for the drinks


The best of music
And blah blah blah blah blah


And you ML
(Or is it MT or MS or MM or MC?  Too many M's to keep track) 

Massage therapist in Texas

Poem from my hamptons port town
From my seashell balcony
Is that the right word?

Seems like mercy


My love

Mormons should get drunk sometimes

The bus hurtles by
An engine I can't resist 

Someone said once
"More weight."

This wait is too much

Do you sea?
Forty Swells to hike
Or more

The crescent moon rests
In the swoop of the

I'm rushing home to change the 

There's a creek in the tracks
Like a dingy bell
The train arrives and people rush to and fro

Even after midnight

Your walls prevail 

image from www.jburdimages.com

Stopping by on the way
The Yemeni man at the bodega 
Counter gives me change
Of three quarters

"Make sure they're not 
Canadian" he says
"Even banks hand them out

He wears his boos with
A difference

image from www.jburdimages.com

Memory snickers
And hobbles past 
I can't help but wave

My messy mixed metaphor
Turgid pros tequila

One more bow to the wind.