Breakfast
In Heartbreak a half hour till sun-up
the barman dances with his best friend’s wife
to George Michael’s “I Want Your Sex,”
a loaded handgun tucked into his
beltless jeans. Opposite the jukebox
the game of 8-ball in the green felt glare
stops on a sloppy break that sends the cue
ball rolling between the legs of a bride
from Indiana whose husband is
interested, he tells the barman, in some
breakfast. That gets a laugh from the few of
us still hearing in English. The barman
says, “Well, could all use a little breakfast.”
The couple laughs like they heard some kind of joke.
FIVE-LINE POEMS
Walking Home
On Sterling Place
I walk behind a man
walking home. He waves
to nine people who wave back.
This is, like, New York.
Belief
tonight
you no longer believe
things will change.
Tomorrow,
you might.
Failure
the failure
of your ex-wife’s poems
pleases you.
your own –
that hardly matters.
Questions
you have learned
not to ask questions
when they cry in your bed—
questions
have answers
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