shut the front door

I never thought I could be alone. I really am not alone anyways, I am guarded constantly by two stinky pit bulls and a television blaring. Mind you, the Bose system blares and bumps, the surround sound surrounds, the television silent all the while. But I sit here, sole human and all, mindlessly staring through two year old movie after movie, comedy after romance after bad joke. Cherry Vanilla creme soda after filtered water after carrot juice before Pinot Noir.

I bought a bottle of Orogeny, and every cell in my body wants to open it in Pittsburgh in the presence of my gals and whine about jeans not fitting and boys. I’ve spent more time and money in liquor stores here than anywhere yet. Sure, there were a few hundred plus dollar grocery trips… a couple fifty plus dollar accidental shopping trips… but it’s been the wine for me. My expensive vice and habit. Cotes du Rhone, Rose, Sauvignon Blanc, Torrontes, Riesling, Chianti, Pinot Noir, Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon… bottles I’ve recycled… every other Thursday morning… except for this past one, when I forgot to take out those big black bags.

The habit of waiting for the restaurants and bars to let out at one am then cooking dinner and cracking a bottle of wine is getting me down. I want normal hours of life and light and interaction with other people, other beings than these two stinky pit bulls. I started a new job, new place, new people. They seem familiar and nice and lovely but the learning process is hard. Not learning menu items and recipes, learning names and faces and habits and facts and information about people gets difficult. I had a tight group. Now I’ll share too much with everyone or not enough with anyone.

But let it go. Let it loose. Try again. Start anew. I met a girl named Anu a few weeks ago. Irrelevant. I am done. Off to finish the Sangiovese and pop the Pinot Noir. Off to make a ham sandwich with cheese and lettuce and mayo on toast. Every time the sandwich the same… the soup to dip different. My jeans have been unbuttoned this whole time. The whole whine time.

I am wondering how I am having so many nightmares when I can’t even sleep.

I can’t find a job.

My money is running out.

I am lonely.

&the world goes on without me.

I’ve been good lately

taking the correct ways home.

Even though I know

my travels get me into your bad graces.

I flew to Providence 

and brought you home Colonial Bitters.

I took it out of my Jeep suitcase.

I drove to New York City

and brought you home Katz’s Deli.

I left corned beef at your door.

I drove to Philadelphia

and bought you a rare EP.

You let me spend the night in my long black skirt.

I know I’m not going to cross

your path again.

Because I’m taking the right ones

the straight ones

not the longcuts

not the out-of-my-ways.

Not the times

I try too hard to make you

see something you never did in me.

Funny you should mention it.

I’m actually really angry and upset

& officially am beginning to hate you.

Wisen up a bit.

Listen more.

Talk less.

You helped me mess this up.

I changed the world to fit you and I in it.

Lord I was born a rambling man

Just trying to make a living

Doing the best I can

“Keep it all. I don’t want to go back there again.”

“I just don’t want to go back again. Keep it or leave it I don’t care.”

…to a move that took six months.

And you respond with a picture of the cats.

Like I needed to cry more.

The greatest part of it all was

walking by myself

talking to myself

thinking of myself.