Dude — Note in a Bottle 13
Forest Creek
Dude,
On Friday night the power went out, so we started a fire. I have a bunch of projects I meant to do but instead thought about poetry and almost quit my job. I kind of want to work at the grocery store a block from my house, which is hiring night stockers right now.
Bad Timing
Unfortunately the internet is forever.
Something you may be interested in
But the tweet’s deleted, she’s dead
Seconds too long, the drink of the summer
Never quite took off: Dirty Shirley.
Order another. You never told me
You were an actor! Pretend surprise
Google knew who we were five years ago
But who are we now? Upload whispered
Nothings in my ear, your expired dreams.
I know what you did last summer.
I recognize the hotel balcony
But didn’t you know I would?
Because I wanted you to appear
On the vinyl sunlounger beside me.
The well water didn’t come back three days later when the power returned. I heard the electric repair truck coming up the gravel road and stared at the two helmeted men in the cab. “Power will be back in just a bit,” Man #2 said. (One project I’m working on is an unnerving story for Blue Forge Press — they have an anthology series Sami told me about and we’re both going to be in this volume. The press seems really cool and they have some exciting projects going on) I waved.
Suburban Paris
Your house is an absolute stunner
we’ve been admiring on Google Earth.
A shame about the raspberry bush but
the in-ground pool is nice — too bad
somebody sliced the vinyl lining.
Don’t worry about the hide-a-key
under the barbecue, we know
yr wrap-around porch sliding glass
door’s always unlocked. Nothing’s
missing, we just wanted to be near
all of your things, needed to feel
yr carpet on the soles of our feet,
run our palms along the smooth
kitchen island granite. Littered
Lipton tea bags & an empty glass
when you return from vacation.
Shifted couches just an inch odd
in the living room and half-drunk
bottles of Grey Goose vodka.
We left the basement TV on Bravo.
Today Man #3 came over and he was very kind to me while we troubleshot the well water system. We didn’t really figure anything out — all the most obvious fixes didn’t seem to be the problem. Turning the pump on and off. Checking the pressure switch. Maybe a pipe froze during the storm: It was supposed to snow Saturday morning. He told me about plans he’d made, treehouses, 3-D printers, solving problems instead of making profit. He liked the story of how I rescued my dog. He left to visit a friend who was making lasagna.
Unlock it (Lock it)
////////////////Maybe you can come up with something new
////////////////or maybe tweet the same three things every day
until a stranger comments, “Are you talking
////////////////to yrself?” I’m even younger than you were
////////////////in that photo you, yr twenty-ninth birthday,
cigarette hanging out of yr mouth & leather crown.
////////////////I swear this is the first time I’ve done this
////////////////(looked at yr Tumblr) in five long years.
It’s up to you what happens next.
A Letter I Won’t Send to [~~]
Woof,
Joe
