[friends thrive with uselessness]
my staccato attitude grows with impatience
as i hit the end of the measure.
the one who normally pulls me back isn’t within earshot.
i can no longer hear his soft dabble in notes
i wake up to lonely coffee and silence on the porch
his telling embrace isn’t preventing my forte
voice from the mountain any longer.
instead useless friends gather to corrupt coffee and
conversation. they refuse
to hear anything
but their own voices.
god forbid they listened.
because the screaming dusk mountain awaits.