Poetry: 10 to the Bar

10 to the Bar

Mary, how does that leave us?
With filtered stomachs and brows of gold
we beat back the times we spent,
anger nestled beside love
nestled beside ritual.
Becoming what we’ve always been is a cinch
when you remember you taught me how
to write my letters.
And so ten times above the sea level
and 20 degrees below zero we
hop
and skip,
amid fortresses and bunkers
and innocence.

This is what we dreamed of
and now we dream of what we were.

Sorry to be alive
Sorry to be gone
Sorry to be sorry.

Did you hear she can unhinge her jaw?
That’s restless leg syndrome if I ever saw it.