but can you imagine, Jacob?
if we can talk compulsively, insanely.
Pounding disagreements on what we both agree on and
over too much wine
or too much gin
or whisky if its Thursday nights.
Smoke, in and out of our rapidly circling head …
and binding itself to the scent we brought with us in this tiny room.
.and reciting poems, and essays
and forming new ideas from these poems and essays.
and we can do this!
we can make words and imagination and thought
Like in the 40s, or the 50s
and 60s …
do you remember?
do you remember how deeper we loved then?
and we came in groups. Gathered
in individual rooms, or basements, or musty bars.
we’ve come far away from the things that made us