Friend, I asked the great poets but for all their flowery words
They couldn’t capture your breathless manner of speaking.
I searched the sea and the ocean but they just kept repeating,
(Repeating) and I beseeched the birds but they just kept circling and
I was dizzy; a statue? too stiff, unfeeling.
Flowers? too trite with grieving – I went back pleading with the poets
“Write me a new constellation in the sky and call it Mia!” but they
Gave me cold cracked bells tolling, so unappealing–
More fitting – I on a marble stoop sitting, my beer streaming out,
Watching bubbles slowing, exhales burying a sidewalk steaming,
All… all… quietly disappearing.