~

i find myself on a bus headed that way

hardly recall boarding

grown tired of the lure of it, but finding myself there

when this certain mood hits, always wondering

what i hope to find

it's time-worn, predictable, joyless

despite the gaiety the tourists radiate

rightly so, i suppose

it did once for me—it isn't the piers and crab shacks i haunt

but the shops across embarcadero selling cheap souvenirs

the neon lights doing to me

what a flickering candle does to a moth, draw and scorch

then, like that, i'm done with it, shake my head and go home

a couple hours killed, i'm still me

and the apartment walls reverberate silence

~

i put on some music, make a cup of tea

sit by the window

watching sparrows and people

thinking how pleasant it is to be me

thinking of maryjolisa, thinking of evenings with professor eliot

marcy, colin, and antoinette

thinking of phrases—live in the moment, appreciate what you have

take nothing for granted, quit bitching

and my favorite—fuck 'em if they can't take a joke

i'm hungry, i vow to embrace my hunger

then call marcy to see 

if she wants to meet for dinner, having no will power at all

i head out the door thinking summary thoughts

it's what i do, it's what we do

~

"maryjolisa"

~ the Ting-Tings

"fuck 'em if they can't take a joke"

~ from "The Big Chill"