A Crumpled Swan, Unable To Swim

Our once well-folded love

Is now crumpled origami

A mutilated paper swam

No longer able to swim

We are spilled beer

Once alcoholics of togetherness

We have become broken champagne glasses

Toasting to a pile of shattered glass

Charred, deformed clouds

Descend on muddy, rain-drenched streets

With rumbling thunderstorms

And I can’t help but think of him

Sometimes fresh fruit

Withers and has no seeds

Unrefrigerated, rotting corpses

Black with decay and bitter to the taste

Our road together migrates south

Like birds do in winter

Everywhere, stop signs and one-way signs

Hug the sides of the faded asphalt

I see white, wooden crosses on the roadside

And know what this means

#JimmyBroccoli