the playground

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the penny-drop

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the monkey bars

There's a playground that we used to run on: the penny-drop that broke her arm, the monkey bars that you fell from, the swingset chain that stuck with my tongue. It's thirty below and we're far gone; if you plant yourself here I wouldn't miss you for long. But then comes the day when you leave town, I'm back to the way I was when you weren't around

the swingset chain

If you want to know what that was like I'll tell you first, it was way too quiet. It rained a hundred nineteen days of the year, I spent my time falling down the stairs. I know I can't tie you to a leash, but something tells me you'd go further than Greece; and then I'll have to figure out what to do; I'm kind of afraid I'm co-dependent on you

the rooftop deck

There's a rooftop deck where we still hang out, a couple of bars where we're not allowed, the roller-skates that threw you on your face, the park on the hill which was our only space. The fog is fast, and it rolls right in. About at the time, I struck my first fifth of gin. I really don't mean to complain too much, but this is turning me into quite the lush