When Dreaming of Being Elsewhere

There’s darkness and then there’s my unwillingness
I describe it without bird wings or getting vertigo
Or feeling strung up like a bridge. But to where!?

The sky strums through my strings,
Recalling the last time I tried to play out
The party and I practically tripped everyone
Domino-style in how wonky tuned it was
(“Imagine what it says about his heart”
A friend (clearly not a poet (clearly a bit
Drunk (clearly unwilling to avoid sentimentalizing
Some face-flush warm chords - probably
Too much blues on the brain))) blurts);

I forget to consider that sounds are chummy
Until a jackass like me shuttles one
To the other room for a kiss - I’m making
This up as I go along, I tell ‘em, like
Just about everything else, which is why
I have so many unnecessary cups of coffee
To fend off the blurry cold mind.

-C.S. Henderson

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