'We dance to the same groove, but I got the right move.'
& I know you know it.
Feel complete?
Drunken stupor, nights in bed, grocery work the next morning.
Countless friends, pseudo relations?
You puzzle me.
And I hate how you don't care.
And I hate how I do.
What use are you?
I needn't dwell, but still, I do.
I need you like Mexico needs the FLU.
6/23/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem