Sometimes we get drunk and tell
our problems to each other
and what do we expect?
This is just humans
connecting. This is just the need
to go beyond the surface, to say
I'm having a shit time,
will you listen to me?
-
Then I lay in bed at night reviewing
the plays, scanning for errors, looking
for praise, evaluating the worth
of an interaction and the next day
at breakfast as "just a few memories"
comes on, I paint the evening
with a nostalgic brush, one without detail,
one big swoop of the bristles.
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