It
Feels
Like
College
Drinking Maxwell House coffee from
A broken handle mug
And watching garbage on the television
As I wait for a wheat blonde girl who
Is
Running
Late
A
Gain

In humors like these, in weather like this
Plans nag like canker sores
I count my friends present
Because we’re all stoned today
As the 3 o’clock sun paints
Highlights
On my plain blue carpet

I remember the sharp motion times
It
Felt
Like
A playground slide that whooshed you off to anywhere
And she would ask me,
“Do you want another line?”
In a locked door room
Into the inchoate blue eyes
I say to her “Yes of course Yes”
I would fear to say no
I knew about the afternoons
Even then
When your aspirations pass like a bird across the window