Union Station
I remember the drunk man
Bellowing opera in the corner
And the train that flew under
Us on the windy bridge
How we circled the quiet halls
In the floors below
But now I’m here
And these moments have passed
The station has not lost its splendor
But simply isn’t full
There is beauty in the hollowness
Of cheekbones
And this place is just a skeleton

i will stop writing poetry like a eulogy when you start making me feel alive

My piano sits against the wall

Hardly ever played at all

Things are stacked upon her mantle

Where once was music now just shambles

Creaking and clicking keys are everywhere

But no one seems to care

Who could love a piano untuned

My piano will fall apart soon

I look at her from far away

And my piano seems to say

*you too dear, are such a sight

for you see, you and I are just alike

I was a hot cup of water

Freshly set on the wooden table

You the sweet, dark leaves

That floated past the steam

The minutes pass

And though I became dark

I was so much more

Just you and me, sweet tea

But we cooled

You, spooned out

I, quietly drank

and

it

was

all

gone

How do you bear it,

My dear lady?

Staring across the table,

Watching that man shovel

Without a bit on your plate?

How are you sane?

My lovely friend?

Sitting on the couch

Hearing the slurp of his beer, the tenth?

With that dry worry on your lip?

How do you feel?*

My sweet mother?

As ugly words, waving hands

Swear at you and us?

My beautiful mom, mommy dear,

Do you even see or hear?