I can get used to not having you here. I do have blankets. I've been trying to forgive myself for 27 years now and the outcome is still anybody's guess. Forgiving you will have to wait. Until the moon's too full of itself to hold water. I'll walk the dog every day. Offer martinis to my nightmares. Like you did, chuckling. I'll invent new ways to make fire, always trying to get the body temperature right. I will not take my clothes off when I sleep. I will not sleep when I take my clothes off. I will wait, patiently, for everything, eating regularly, which will probably kill me. If you're not here. But I must say, you'll need more than cabfare to outdistance my love static on your radio. You'll need gunpowder in your next drink to blast me out of your bloodstream. You'll need a hundred thousand tomorrows just to get through today. Lotsa coyotes out there howling for the moon, baby, but I never yet heard the moon howl back.
You can find Eli Coppola’s great works of poetry at Zeitgeist Press.
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"You'll need a hundred thousand tomorrows to get through today" love that line ❤️
Oh baby, this is terrific……