Taking Your Chair

If I could figure it out, I would tell you—

Why I discover new ways to let you know I don’t need you.

 

Through the corridors of what is it

Dragging wicker chairs from the mudroom

Across the concrete to the damp lawn

Nearly crying it’s so fucking pleasant.

 

I’ve been heaving like this, away, like a dry drunk

From suburb to suburb,

Charting gravel, hating the clay doves that knock from patio eaves.

 

You’re taking another trip with your girlfriend

Whom you’ve recently told you can’t love

Down through a planned hurricane.

 

If you come out of it with all of your bearings

I’m holding a place for you in this shuttered backyard,

Two chairs the size of Lego pieces in my fists.

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