took me a few weeks to find the right station.
started at Allegheny, but we quickly
moved to a new one.  new location
down the street. lucky,
it’s a straight line.
  why can’t you get around?
circulates the acrid air but
there were some things lacking in this house:

color. that eggshell white encased
us and we had no budget for luxury
save the statue you brought home
but I’ll save that story.
heat, they shut it off as the previous
owner had been stealing it and
a misunderstanding occurred when  I called
to transfer the bill in my name
so we sat in arid silence
  by a space heater under
borrowed throw blankets.
they said it would take
three weeks to come back on
regardless of the cold front,
our innocence about it,
it would take three weeks to
turn back on.
and money. 


I had none coming in.
friends.
I had none coming in.
and I suppose in the tritest of ways,
love. an absence felt
with action, namely,
the bellowing 

 why can’t you figure out
how to get around?

“Huntington Station”

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