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Pockets

de Slaughter Beach, Dog

There's a woman on the porch
With a bottle and a bag
And a box of Lucky's Chinese
She's asleep, and the Sun
Is peeking from behind
The homes on the other side of the street

I lock up and fuck off
Survey the scene
Little bugs start biting at my skin
There's spray-paint on the doors
Of the neighbors with the numbered window decals
From last Halloween

Last night, at the bar
From a table in the backyard
Where the townies could not overhear
We made our exchange
How little we had changed
Anxious and unsure and weird

A good friend says goodbye
We go inside
And you scratch at an old wound
You ask: How the hell
If I felt like I felt with you
Did I move on so soon?

Then, a glass hits the floor
From here, I see the door
And we know it's our time to leave
We wait for your ride
With you standing by my side
And you know it ain't me that you need

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