they finally poured the concrete next door
it was a dark ash in the morning rain
and there's a certain satisfaction knowing what's under there--
the 40's we spilled a month ago, the burrito we never ate,
oil from the old ford i sold before moving to new york three years ago
now there's a new surface,
one that may be there forever
but we are under that cement
our stories rounding out the edges
staining the old parking lot, all saying
we were here
like when they tore up the bathroom four years ago
and we came home late and drunk
found some sharpies and wrote our names
in what could one day be mistaken for a child's hand
we were here
underneath the new tiled walls, now stained with mildew
there we are on rotting redwood
and when we pack up our things
scrub the walls and get the carpet cleaned
no one will ever know


adoken said...

i love this

Christina said...

thanks. that was your name on the bathroom wall my friend.

molly said...

i concur. this is wonderful.