Corbin Louis
2016
we decided fast and loose
we decided
rooftop spell
“say it with your chest” with your cigarette and your incubator and the light rail half built like the skeleton of a concrete god
In Seattle
we drank gallons
of tomorrow u, resurrected angel, made me ramen at 3:20am
u, kept me warm
through February
in a year I had nowhere to be
and that’s how I survived
the oxycyclone
the second part
of a friday shift
dragging my body
like a blinking corpse
my chief complaint, is life. I explain
u nod. ‘atrophy and fireworks’
what’s the difference I ask
‘perspective’. u whisper
but call it what u will
haywire
diagnosed borderline
the wino monsoon on 1st and Cherry
if now is all we have
then does it matter
how insane I went getting sober
or does it matter how hard
my teeth chattered to write goodbye
certainly
or not don’t overthink it
I tell myself enjoy pink lemonade
light on your dirty window
the 3 hours of crisp morning
on halloween before I crashed
in a ditch
u kissed me
before I ate the silos
and orchids
and felt to a certainty
I can’t work
not today
maybe I won’t be sick
if I sleep
today
maybe I won’t be sick
2 for operator
on the nurse line
and you with 1000
ecstasy tablets in your hair
u took me in
like slow poison
and what a year
to cherish the drink
of the city
30 inches
of rain
your name
on every
drop
and what it means
to be drenched
with each other