zzzzzzzzzzzzip, went the bag.

there’ve been a few, was my reminder.

you won’t be the first.

and certainly not the final.

will this shirt go, no longer a question

cause if it doesn’t, then I only have four.

one more bus day, one more bus night

if it seems weird to read, it’s even stranger to write.

it’s a home, another one, sure, but still unique

with it’s long metal tube, and the five who kept it insulated

and then it’s a couch in the east village

a spare bed across to philly

then another where they have seperate faucets,

[a feat I'll still never understand]

all in the name of the absurd.

so goodbye g, with your easiest ear.

and to you, mister -zle, never lose that pillow.

for r and for t, they’ve kept me this long, so thanks for seeing through

I’m off as the sign so shows

to the only room I can call mine

the one where you wait.

the one before you go.