Four Fragments

The first cocktail of the night

Not a top-me-up
No laughing out loud
Not a night cap
No ‘extra dry’
No ‘how is your mom?’
No waiting for Tom

Not bringing you home
No closing it out
No spills
Not an eight-part series
No second thoughts
Nothing fancy
No botched attempt

I’m more like myself when I try to be like him

I am like me when I laugh like him
Insist like him
Board my imaginary RV
Drive west for liver

I am like me when I laugh like him
Insist like him
When I nod; cross my arms
When I lean back

I am like me when I hike like him
When I’m forceful
Bullet until seventy
Glad to be of use

When I know what goes on in your corner
When I can fix things
When I opine
When my knees scream

I am like me at breakfast
When the mountain still hides

I am like me when my map
Extends beyond his map

I feel old when he turns 90
I am like me

When he lives in me.

Definitions

Snow: a high-definition watermark
Wine: a gambler’s losing streak
Poetry: hiding and seeking
Music: heartbeats in a womb

Apple tree: a dead man’s fingers
Cigarette: a word outside
Passion: a blind man’s bet

2027: inventory of a vintage store

A recipe’s backstory
A picture of my actual face
A speech with grammatical errors

Copywriters
Two pedals
Fact-checkers

One tangled-up cord
A stash of re-usable grocery bags
Being hangry

Sloppy summaries
Writer’s block
Bad lighting

A stash of condoms
The United Nations
Six seven

Someone else’s playlist
Someone else’s game
Misspellings.