In my absence will the tulips
I planted last spring grow?
Or are they still-born?
Yielding petals
Hastily transported from my mother's garden
Whom I helped weed
In the summer after my accident
I remember going to the store
To buy me some milk and some bread
I remember the counter
And the dry finger tips of the cashier
And the smoke from Northern fires
I drag my feet and try not to weep
Feeling everything all at once
Like I casually do
Fifty milligrams of serotonin
Vodka chased with flat cola
And a vase of dying flowers sits before me
I've lost everything before
But never have I lost the light
But even now as I grow drowsy
In the darkness of my makeshift room
In the basement of the Manor
At the end of the semester
At the end of their lease
At the end of my love with sweet Aislynn
At the end of my drink
At the end of the night
At the end of Good Friday
I can't help but long for a firm handshake
Except the dying flowers are not tulips
Roses or lilies
They're you Angelina
Like their molding stems and muddy pulp
We are water under the bridge
Haven't I pushed you away
Haven't I worried you with my drinking
Don't I scare you?
Don't I make you want to get away?
Please don't stand there in the hallway
And weep for me
Under incandescent light
I beg you to let me be
I go down to the creek
In the forest by the place we rent
And sit down on the trail
And look above at the branches
And ask why they haven't begun to grow leaves
It's Spring after all
And everything's supposed to grow in Spring
Except me evidently
I dream of a dramatic death
Ironic and funny
Like a bear attack
Or driving off a bridge
If you dream of me tonight
Angie
I'll dream of drink
Angie
I'm sorry
I'm sorry