Your shine wasn’t the lasting kind
I didn’t mind, the wine was good
And red and wet like a clown mouth.
There were Joe therapies in the dripping
Cave chrome menu sign windows.
I added sugar and cream, we streamed videos
Of nachos being skip jacked outta air locks,
We beamed ourselves back from away missions
Sans the red shirts and the hurt.
Speaking of clowns…..
I fade now at the end of the poem.
I recline on 99 dollar Salvation Army love seat cushions.
I TiVo now, lose interest, fall back into the world.
The last line is a metaphor.