I don’t know how many years I have left
but I’ll give them all to you if science ever catches up to the transference of jouissance-time
it’s cold out and it’s no longer Christmas
not for 3 hours now and perhaps it was a good one but who can tell anymore
who knows how death meanders the holidays
scythe-gripped in snowy streets Is death less cumbersome now? Does it come with some prize for the season?
I knew you differently back in the years
You would let me drink your booze and pass out on your couch you had a cat named after Henry Miller
That was back when things were more complicated and I would yell at you about socialism before I knew socialism was better spoken in hushed tones
and said more as a suggestion than a command
I don’t know what it means when you say you’re sick
I spent my life avoiding biology in high school I would walk out of every biology class in protest
now I wish I’d learned better then
so I could be a better friend now
M L Woldman has a GED, is the founder of Austin Poets' Union, and Editor-in-Chief of Voluminous Crux Magazine. They have appeared in Austin Chronicle, The Daily Drunk, Dwelling Literary and Serotonin, among others. They also wrote some books.
Twitter: @MLWoldman, @ATXPoets