Now that the declaration of inter-dependence
has been nullified, life is once again
at hand and freedom is the word,
is the movement, is the feeling.
They're all gone, and should I miss them
more than I try not to, well then not even
bactine is going to help.
three days of work was all they had
or all that I could handle, but for
fifty bucks my friend is happy and sits
and smokes with me, talking about boys
and her floor isn't really all that uncomfortable
less so than many the bed I've shared.
later, only when the light is gone,
its sanctuary to step beyond the darkly lit glass
and smile at kate
or rainee
or heather
or trish
they smile, happy to see me
strange warmth grows from well-worn strangers
they pour me a tall tangueray and tonic
two limes
or a rolling rock, if its later in the week,
and it is here that I find freedom
from the gray city streets
from the harshly lit mail room
from the glitter of brass rails
but most of all
from myself.