For Future Breakups
It became clear earlier
that this was no time to be happy
I know you think the stage extends everywhere
but this is Fishtown
and we're in a parking lot
and the sky just went on strike
it's been without a contract since March
you recognize the horizon from the broken churches
where only the locks work
and we keep swearing at each other in our graffiti
about it being over, about it being too un-tragic
You text:
"Even if it is Jeff Koons
a wax penis in a beer cozy
won't win me back"
Which I immediately forward
to all my fake lesbians
rather than photography
let's bank this instance
for the next time we're in a long line
or staving off ejaculation
or on the El dodging H__ N__'s
or trying to forget about you
forgetting about me
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