you are no longer a
part of me. with your
ways that mean nothing &
things that don't impress
((like getting drunk off the attention)).

i am drifting off in dreams
of andy warhol shirts & pockets deep
at the bus shelter, post-latte-hit.
so articulate & strange. are
you living there? still?

you have got me wondering
how to sever this tie
with a stranger.