Monday Night

2:03 am

We could have played lip legos till June.

I built a cushion fort in the imperative,
          begging  you      to put down your Gameboy
      and  crawl         inside.

one night
                               I took your nightmaring body,
                                                                                               kissed your screaming head
     and you sighed out
                                              “It’s beautifullll…”

        it was a sad season we got born into.
     we forget our tuques in October
      and suddenly it was February  
I can’t scarf down on memories like you can.

the tiny men of tiny town   were     terrified
to learn their idol         grew wings    and flew away
     while they left her behind to fish   for minnows.

it’s late, and I’m tired.
        we      might have kept the light on to see what        might come by,
           but we’ve burned it out already    and  I’m tired     and it’s too late.

clackclack,    the muddy bike wheels across train tracks
clackclack,    the muddy bike wheels aren’t coming back

                   Even the brightest watercolors
     are just water
                           and color, Chuck.