December 24, 2016


The next time you get in the car,
blowing the breathalyzer,
and flip off the dash cam,
I hope the vacant passenger seat
brings you to tears.

When you pick up
cigarettes in Mokena,
I hope the cashier hands you two.
Both because you've been 
picking mine up for a month,
and because you look like
you need two packs.

I hope you feel hollow when 
you cut through the park en route home,
and visit the library parking lot,
and sit on your porch 
where my presence one lingered 
while you smoke your Marlboro menthols from

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