a writer friend came over | poem

poetry

I was lying on my bed in a pool of sweat

something to do with recent flu

too much cheap wine that turned my stomach.

another foreign love affair gone right

coated my flesh with a peachy scent.

I would listen to the radio then

something about slipstreams and viaducts

drifted across the room from a radio with bent antenna.

news about another postal service strike

riots in the streets

rock and pop and classical.

hours of my days would be spent this way