And you complain
About Dostoyevsky
And the rain.
The girls
In the next booth
Laugh at us.
But I don’t flinch once
Not even when you say
You sleep with a gun
Beside your bed
That’s what intellectuals
Do, don’t they?
Read Camus
And ponder
Deep questions—
Like whether or not
To live or die.
Yeah, I see the girls
Laughing,
But don't get distracted
Some people
Have no nerve endings—
Like those two
Forget about them
I'm listening, bro,
So don't use that gun
On me or you.
I’m not ashamed
To read Dostoyevsky
Debate Camus
Or hear about your pain
There’s a lot I’ve done
That are real sins
Ignoring the Moon
In its pale afternoon
Not listening closely
To someone I love…
So, hang out
Your dirty laundry—
I’ll try to listen
To what you feel
And I’ll spend all night
Sipping cardboard coffee
If that’s what it takes
For us to get real.