second thoughts: Frank D at 33

the voices keep calling you
tormenting what passes for your soul
you know you must be leaving
but hang onto the day
days that run dawn to dusk
in a place you don’t belong
you try to kill that restless feeling
with responsibilities
with boundaries that bind
these things were tried before
this life you’ve lived before
and though you hear your name spoken
it is not the name you answer to
and there are voices on the wind
impossible to resist
this time there just isn’t much to hold you
and the names
the names you carry
send sorrow through the air
and the weight
the weight fills your lungs
and your mind
your perfect weapon
yearns to go down to the sea
and purify itself

the glasses: for Frank

are gone
you discover that in the morning
on your way to the subway
when the street looks hazier than usual
you remember a street sign
First Avenue
and think
they’re somewhere on First Avenue
you feel slightly woozy
like you did in the shower
when you realized you were still drunk
you know your ex-wife would say
see why I married someone boring
and yeah, you think
yeah I see
and somehow, some way
the day will end
and you’ll go home
to sleep like the baby
you never were