Have you been to East Lansing



Yet determined to lounge in the room and not be the most awkward.

At least there was always one kid with lopsided hair who saved everyone, a typical Jesus usually named Mike.

We were all experts in porn. All with girlfriends out buying beer and red label vodka for themselves.

Just beginning to get nasty. Half knowing that love is only what you’re able to hold on to.

The rest of the half still pretending not to be virgins. Pretending to know conversations.

As if the one girl they’d found their way into and pumped three times counted.

We didn’t have to talk about that. But Mike usually brought it up to dig his way from the basement.
Through the crevasse he’d fallen, unable to climb out, rappelling farther and farther in search of light. One day he’d be gone and we’d notice and talk about it between the 3rd and 4th beer.

Leaving it after that initial, awkward, letdown.

Things will never end right.

I’m sure many people have said that.
5 words all common. In some arrangement it’s had to have happened solely by probability. Given all that’s spoken and thought.

I don’t know about death. I can’t think about it with meaning. Friends have seriously toyed with drugs looking for a sliver of that light.

Love, the longer lived, only becomes painful.

With identities turned fragile as a crustacean desiccating on a beach.

Tossed indifferently upon the beach.

Endurance to love wears and the beauty fades. Yet it’s the only thing made un-awkward. The only thing comfortable in any true meaning.

Our room we share. It’ll end, then begin again in another breath. That’s one way to think. Nietzsche with a paragraph led me around my college campus with a quirky smile because I thought he was right.

Just patterns moving about with capacity to think.
Bound to repeat the exact same thing and everything else.

Merely because of the word infinite.

In the room.

I love her.

I’ve loved her and so has he.

My best friend.

He once asked me if it was alright, in the parking lot of a mid sized city in Michigan. Looked at me after we rafted a West Virginia river in the rain. Dude man, he said and then popped the question. A hand on my shoulder as he looked up and into my eyes. Leaving his question than saying, dude man, again.

Just say something, if you mind. Dude. Man.














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