C U IN HELL

What are you saving that stationery for you freak

those golden days

when you will be at your escritoire?

dashing off cards? 

bent over loving letters?

those days aren't coming

No, somewhere along the line those days have been changed into

stupid dreams nobody wants to hear about 

it’s not your fault

the world will do that: take a turn

which like a horde of bullshit butterflies

changes everything. 

                            Everything.

And then what had seemed perfectly reasonable

in terms of plans

is transformed into 

ridiculous jokes

like sitting in a chair reading a book

or learning Italian 

or as I’m saying now

sitting at your desk

and writing me a letter

in which you will say

(in ways only you still can I bet)

how much you miss me

and really appreciate the slow but steady progress

my poems are making

if we can only dodge time’s preemptive terror

and butterfly bitch-smoke

i bet we can use up our stationery

but we gotta act fast

don’t think about it:

just grab a card and write ‘c u in hell’

and put a stamp on it 

just write ‘Wake up asshole’

don’t even sign it

I’ll get it

and I’ll read it

and whatever it says

I’ll know what you mean