Fm

They met at a Starbucks on Ventura.

An order mixup led to small talk about the day Tower Records
shuttered its doors and an in-depth sidebar regarding
Gang of Four's groundbreaking release, Entertainment!

They recalled all this over dinner, finishing each other’s
observations about that day -which was came easy since
both had told the story a hundred times during over the
past 5 years.

They celebrated as they went through the
linear peaks and valleys of their life together
-gulping and chewing in between it all.

Here’s to the next five years!

Cheers!
    Cheers!

That night he dreamed he was
hitchhiking to San Francisco.
He appeared to be in a Semi
with a trucker named Eddie
on an abandoned Interstate 5.
The cab smelled of cigarettes
and a half eaten Italian sub.
-Which at some point had become
sentient and was now seeking
answers.

The sky is blue, because?
A lunar eclipse doesn’t kill us,
why?
      War is?
War is...because, you are all
stupid little children!!!
    Fossil Fuels, Fox News,
CNN, Global Warming,
Flint Michigan!
  Flint Michigan!
      Flint, fucking Michigan!
          Bon Jovi,
‍ ‍Why?

And she dreamed she was in a green 1967 Buick Le Sabre with a busted 
headlight and no AC.

In the waking world, she couldn’t tell you the difference between
a Maserati and a Mazda, but here, in this moment, she knew she was in an
old mint green Buick, heading in the general direction of the Louvre Museum.
Outside the window she recognized Flagstaff, and knew Phoenix was 140 miles
out and Paris came roughly 5,466 miles after that.

And under the sweet melancholy blue of night,
at the blurred edges of consciousness 
they each discovered that the other
wept in the key of F minor.