"misty eyes on repeat"
about people we know by jake kilroy.

an entire generation talking
about the factory work of their grandparents
over coffee they chose over lunch,
worshipping city lofts like churches
and loneliness as a stage of life;
here they come at the world, small furies aglow,
somewhere between crack-up and cracking up,
reading recipes instead of body language,
cooking up storms as lovers pack their bags in the other room;
another lachrymose vagabond pouring sugar out of the stereo,
a syrupy echo of how hard it once was,
written and recorded in a house already paid for.
an exit stage right awaits before the map's read wrong
and the exes strut back in, mistaken for takeout delivery—
everyone the healthiest they've ever been, dying repeatedly.