under the same full moon

doc slides another scotch across the bar
and I pull it to me
parked here on my stool like
a hearse among sports cars
a week away from another year wasted
suturing up my heart with threads
of loneliness

while half a continent away
the advertising agency party outside rages
as you climb up on the copier
twirl those tiny panties on your finger
laughter like ice in glasses tinkling
and someone pushes the button
to print my birthday card