My heavily-scribbled notebook is full of
fragmented stanzas, unrequited overtures
and Valentine’s long past their sell-by date.
No methods, slight madness,
some Es before Is,
and some long-absent Us.
Words without reason
are corralled in a ring of coffee
with cigarette ash-stained barbed wire.
There is a line that started in the Fall
and sputtered along on wobbly legs
to the first week of Winter.
From ecstasy and abstract optimism,
to despair and resignation—
nihilism kills the optimist.
Friend Zone: a barren wasteland
with overly-delineated borders
adorned with silver medals and runner-up trophies.
That’s where love dies a humble death,
slowly decomposing in a coffin
of thin, college ruled paper.
©2012 José-Ariel Cuevas