Untitled #12

Periodic visits soon downshift
To mailed checks every two weeks
I’m not sure what the definition of a favor is
Especially where family is concerned

The line becomes even scratchier
As I watch the responsibility shift

The festivities aren’t as thick
Their expressions,
Aged,
Like rusted gears

I try to avoid the same old thoughts,
Figuring that if I was happier
Less mechanical
Maybe he will see the light flickering
Before it eventually burns out
From the only concerned side

Instead, I dissolve in the shelter
Eyes vacant
Hardly noticing the new arrivals
We trade round solutions interchangeably

Soon I clap with others
Take full advantage of the bar and catered buffet
Steal the metal key and plot my next move
For when the time is right
And my prescription makes her pass out early
As expected

Instead it’s clumps of white numbers on backs
More subsequent Monday morning stains
That I will most likely take the blame for

I tell myself it’s the last time I get sentimental
Over plans falling through
It’s that forward motion that must have carried over from the old man’s speeches
Even though I was too spaced to pay much attention

- C.W.