Terence Winch

1945 / New York City

Blind Date

Ask yourself whether you are crying because
it is always raining in the vicinity of the library
or because there is a very scary allegory of torment
staggering out of the bar and heading for you

I wish you didn't feel compelled to spray everyone
at the gallery with the aerosol version of Wordworth's
Prelude or pixelate their emotions into tiny red balloons
of melancholia, which you know causes weight gain

My ungratefulness is as big as one impossible parking space
on Saturday night when we detonate the metaphor just for laughs
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