She’s moving back, two
thousand-mile-wide break in their
nine months together.
Long distance
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She’s moving back, two
thousand-mile-wide break in their
nine months together.
Drool on my cheek, it’s
dark, daylight gone. Sat on couch,
crashed, kidnapped by sleep.
Too old for pick up
and go – live in the moment
shit, but…what the hell.
Sierras, Rockies
young bucks compared to
old granny Catskills.
Three thousand miles. One
week. San Francisco. New York.
Stay between the lines.
She called. I’m flying
out. Quit my job already.
Knew this would happen.
Four days’ notice, it’s
500 bucks to fly coast
to coast. Got no choice.
I’ve fallen victim
to corporate dress-speak. Just
button down shut up.
Flyover country
rules politics briefly. For
once, Des Moines da boss.
Like a Match.com
date that looks good at first but
goes horribly wrong