this side of a bank. Those with me
stopped calling, abruptly.
A girl loved me once and I lost her.
I turned to find her but
she was gone. I couldn’t call after.
One night in May I read love poems.
Outside the couples laughed, and
voices and screen doors slammed.
I was so stoned once that the true words
were like air gasped out of a tube.
I ended up in some other room.
I once forgot how much pain I had
and tried to say it out loud.
People dislike that kind of pain.
Once was back then, let’s say.
Night is relentless as day.
Hope and promise never
go away.
