Match Sticks

Making match sticks from the bridges We haven’t yet burned. Making match sticks to burn the bridges We haven’t yet burned. So busy with drinking cocktails, sweating sex in hotel rooms, Running from boredom Soaking up the smiles from homeless on the pristine streets, Widdling away the reflections in the shop windows, That’s not me, I am me, here with a flask and an appointment At a speakeasy, staying busy. So busy making matchsticks we ran out of bridges to burn. Michael F. Lewis 3/20/2014