Wolfgang

Check all the emergency exits,
leftover inventory should be stocked,
the isles are clear and equipment is returned.
Exit through the red double doors
as the last person takes their leave
and the clock strikes midnight.

I run to my car and turn up the heat.
It’s time to head over to meet everyone,
maybe have a drink or three before morning.
We laugh at the grueling week it’s been,
complaining of the neverending day we just had
and cheer to a night with so many limits.

I cruise home on a dark and brisk freeway.
I turn up the volume to Thomas’ high-pitched voice.
I think of the synthesizers and how they remind me of him.
I wonder what could happen in the chaos.
Like a lasso that aims too high,
I fall short of my target in the moonlit road before me.

Lazer

Balmy nights and flirty eyes,
music on the beach in the evenings,
inhaling all the shitty air our lungs cling to,
his beating heart thousands of miles away,
the vines in the garden moist with expectation,
the promise of poetry before bedtime in the morning,
standing in line for a Savages set,
giving life back to music,
chasing this temperamental existence,
all the romanticism of modern living,
decadent eats on our table out in the street,
speeding home with the windows down,
our voices lost from earlier in the day,
the moon disappearing behind the skyscrapers,
silence befalls our spinning heads,
our love is sealed into the future,
we’re the children of summer.