Wednesday, May 4, 2011

dress for the job you want.

i had an idea for a story.
it's about a boy and a girl
(big surprise there)
and its plot hinges on two bottles:

one is $5 hair dye that begins to fade within the month
the other is a hundred dollar bottle of fifteen-year-old Irish whiskey.

i don't want to spoil the ending
but it involves a new haircut
a stolen journal page
and a strange reunion some months later.

but on nights like tonight
i wish that i didn't have stories.
that all of that was done.

because
i took my guitar
and beat myself dazed and senseless
coughed blood when i got home
and turned out all of the lights.

i never know when you're going to show up
but i should know how to predict it by now:

all i need to do to summon you
is forget that you're there.

and then:

poof.

there
inexplicably
you are.