Tuesday, February 12, 2013

The View From The Hill

Crouched on the dark hillside 
by the gas station, cars sped by 
not knowing we were watching.

Drinking tall cans of cheap beer,
the intersection of hope and delusion.

He was a drunk, his bandmate
was a sweetheart. I still see her 
from time to time.

My friend, how quickly 
we became past tense.

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