Fall blows into Capitol View
It almost smells like fire pits
Feels like a memory
I almost put on a sweater
I keep forgetting to breathe
It's probably the cigarettes
I keep writing the same poem
It is definitely the wine
Where was I?
I was hungover in bed hoping
I wouldn't have to work again
when the collisions began
They haven't stopped since
The teasing of the seasons
Their smokes and mixed drinks
Theories of conspiracy
None of us are getting out alive
The only way to avoid death
is to breathe and be life-like
May as well try
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