i can’t help thinking about it now.
i know you’re back
in our hometown tonight.
at the irish bar or your parents backyard.
surrounded
by ex boyfriends
and some that never got so lucky.
please don’t dance with them.
don’t say you’ll be right back
and wait on the bathroom line
while they try and figure out an angle.
and since you never liked clever men
the drinks come free with your smile.
you can play innocent for
the first round
but they know what it means.
no one changes that much
and you always paid back chivalry.
do you still see music?
i hear those songs
sometimes
on all night drives
and i press the pedal until the checkers
in the road become straight lines.
like a sailor following a dove back to galilee.
but there’re no saints where we’re from.
at the end of that road
the music ends
the memories begin
and all i’ve done
is follow some taillights in new jersey