He’s no longer sitting across from me. I’m riding his voice like an ocean wave. It swelters above me and pushes me straight down into his throat, in his belly and down into his gut...
I have coffee with him every day.
He doesn’t even know I exist,
Then again, maybe neither does he.
Still, we sip and share where we’re heading—where we’ve been.
He lets out a groan and a melody spills from his lips, the one I’ve been dying to hear.
The one that goes doo dah, doo dah, doo.
It gets me every time.
Somehow, it’s different in person than through living room speakers.
I never realized his voice had so much to say.
I always listened to the words, but here his howling gets me—and takes me.
And he’s no longer sitting across from me.
I’m riding his voice like an ocean wave.
It swelters above me and pushes me straight down into his throat, in his belly and down into his gut.
Down where all of it lives—the love, the pain, the desire, the flame.
I am left there—mouth wide open—drowning.
I get it, I get all of it,
And once again I’m saved.
I come up for air and pour us another round of coffee.
Ain’t nothin’ like shootin’ the shit with Tom Waits.
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