Summertime Howl

I’ll watch the midnight re-run even though I know how the game turned out. I’ll wash a pile of dishes and eat fish chowder with white chewy rolls. I’ll worry my dog will run in the road and write to you with burning love. I’ll shoot scenes in an abandoned bar, where a little man used to wear a bathrobe. I’ll smell death and life all over this goddamn city. I’ll take the bus and be jealous of the guy eating Gold Rush. I’ll eat pizza and wonder where the years went. I’ll sleep in the utility room after my friends graduation party and eat mozzarella sticks at Swigs at 7 am. I’ll drunkenly tell a magazine editor my name is Sean Williamson and I’m a writer, which means little to me and less to them. I’ll do my own surgery and drink pint glasses of whisky. I’ll feel sad but not confused but I’ll be goddamned if I’ll cry. And though I haven’t in a while my friend Frankie tells me not to worry “You will before it’s done.”