Last night I dreamed I was listening to Morrissey,
and found myself humming in echo for hours.
 
I'm so sorry
I'm so sorry
Why do you come here
When you know it makes things hard for me?
 
Now I can barely bring to mind the girl
who introduced me to Suedehead
and rolled her eyes when I asked
if it was a poor man’s Leatherface.
Those days were innocent, but full of
fumbling fingers and mismanaged
clasps in futile attempts not to be,
unfulfilled angst behind steamed windows.
 
For ages I held onto the arrogance
that she spent years pining over me,
weekends rocking with knees to her chest,
gulping back tears, and listening to sad songs.
Such indulgence made the squandered time
on my own journey seem less disgraceful,
with days lost to hangovers and an aimless search
for happiness leaving at least someone missing me.
 
Oh, so many illustrations
Oh, but
I'm so very sickened
Oh, I am so sickened now
 
This morning I woke to a sunny day with somewhere to go,
and found myself humming a song by Morrissey.
 

-- by Steve McKennon, 4 December 2016



**Italicized lines from the song Suedehead by Morrissey