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