When you hang up the casket closes

Y, this is no drunk dial. No conman
with his smoke and tricks. It’s me,
really. After the break up I’ve been
very unhappy.

But tonight is different. I'm suited
nicely, clean-shaven, and snuggled
squarely inside a window seat with
gorgeous black shoes.

The window panes are so large
I had to remind myself the ego
cannot be guarded even when
framed, do you understand?

I’m naked except for my good suit.
My hair is slicked back and I smile.

Women come up to me first.
They run their fingers up my chest,
pausing to admire my handsome buttons.

When their fingers climb to my neck
they stop completely. If they kiss
me here their lips would wither so
they peck my forehead.

My waitress seems uneasy by this.
So I tell the waitress I need my salt
but she only brings me more sugar,
fortune finds me like a bouquet of
flowers shot back into my
coldest winter.