LET’S GET OUT OF HERE

by Jem Golson

because the water isn’t running [again],
and this may go on a while
because of yet another sinkhole
forming down our sometimes sinkish street
because of yet another broken pipe
being replaced too soon for re-replacing-soon
because all the broken pipes
are shoddily so-called fixed with inferior material
because why would any powers-that-be
want to pay full price to prevent outages

because we always forget how much we miss things
until they’re gone [again]

because we aren’t sure how much longer
we can fill and haul and boil and lift
because this broken-down fixer-upper place we live
weighs heavy, heavier lately
because there’s no wine in the house, either,
and that’s probably for the better
because the amount necessary to comfort
would be beyond my comfort zone
because I’ve never been drunk
and don’t plan to get there, for one thing

because it’s not worth it, or especially not over water,
or really anything, but

because I’m so over taxiing out solo
to lose hours in a loud cold-floored café
because their toilets flush while they rush
to serve me an expensive coffee
because they made me that quickly cooling coffee
with their own clean hands
because I don’t want money running through my fingers
for taxis and caffeine
because I don’t want money running through my fingers
for cold and alone

because, you know, I’d rather redirect
any trickling cash flow westward
because a train or road trip to the coastline
would be a welcome, welcoming
because there would be water—washing over the beach,
heating up the shower

because the water’s running there,
just running, just there, for the taking

because there we could be wet and warm and clean [again] together