cold brew

my teeth put on their shoes. 
i have strip-malled myself somehow
into adulthood where i dig graves 
& welcome the snow. i think of us
when we were twenty-one & we seem
to me now like children. one night crying
in a red robin. was i mad at you
or myself? the island took my tongue
& rung it out like a wet towel 
on the front stoop. the neighbor never
knew my name (thank gods) & we 
stayed up until the moon went rancid.
i think it was a date or it was a plea
from you. the car parked way too far away.
i walked to the corner store. i walked
to the grocery store. picked up quarters
on the street to buy another cold brew. 
we drank until we were wind chimes.
until the distances shortened & we were
as old as wood. the future is best left
without any hands. a rolling ball
of wool. every time i have tried to build
a mausoleum, i end up leaving it unfinished
with my plastic take-out cup inside.
i eat a hole in the bottom of an ice cream hole.
flush the galaxy down the toilet
to be with the fish. when i call you i can
hear the caffeine in your voice. 
it is like the parking lot never ends. it is
like there is a stoplight hung from my neck. 
i run the red, chew the ice.