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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Approaching Front” cc&d (v251) (the Sep./Oct. 2014 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the book One Solitary Word the cc&d July - Dec. 2014 collection book		get the 402 page July - Dec. 2014 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

the populated jug

Patrick Fealey

i want to speak of odds
i’m no gambler
but it looks like
they beat us

i was hit over the head
with a jug of gallo
last night

lost loves
and lost friends
spilled out
under the stars
as lightening bugs
blazed constellations
we will never trace

the best friend
i’ve ever had
shot himself
two days after
i called him a prick
for the first time
in ten years
his last words: “peace out.”

and the dynamite shack
chick from London
and our mostly madly
summer of love
and winter of more love
devoured by the miles
between cairo
and providence

jug of wine, you said:
“your life happened
and are you not glad
you were awake
when it did?”

and now?

the circle has been overrun
there’s no one left
my housemate drowned
my girlfriend overdosed
my best friend killed himself
all within 18 months

i’m afraid for people
who want to be my friend

i’m sitting here
on this bench where we all once sat
and we all knew
one of us
would be the last

i don’t want any pity
i want the plague acknowledged
but only two have mustered understanding
while i turned white

i am not a man
who makes friends fast
                    precious fountains

the ones who have lived and died
have made me too cool
for others to get through

all apologies

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