In the meantime, by which I mean the time

that is mean which is all time, really – either

you want it to stop and keep you suspended

in an endless state of ecstasy, or

you want it to hurry up

and get you past the kind of suffering

that’s made worse by thinking – a vicious cycle

in which you become convinced

that your god-like genius can solve any issue

as if life were a Rubik’s Cube or a game of Lemmings –

I’ve heard it said the most important lessons

are those you need to learn and relearn and relearn

perpetually which is why I keep falling

for assholes I guess and although John Lennon

insists that war is over if you want it

I enjoy fighting more than I’m prepared to admit –

like that time when you called me fat

and I called you a hypocritical old pig

and your face broke open into sudden bliss:

A girlfriend, a real girlfriend I can fight with!

as I stood with my suitcase half-packed

dinner half-cooked in your kitchen

rage like smoke from a saucepan boiled dry

not knowing whether to punch or kiss you

which is to say I miss you; our time together

like burning magnesium – gone in a white flash.