until sleep puts him down

the rain

will keep him in

today.

keep him near the roll

away bar.

i can see him

now

cutting limes

for the day.

the clear long bottles

of vodka

and gin

waiting patiently

to be poured.

he'll call me around

three

in the afternoon and ask

what i'm up to.

he'll talk about the loves

lost,

he'll talk about

money

and the world.

i'll listen to the ice

in his nearly empty glass

rumble around.

eventually i'll tell him

that i have to go,

but i won't,

i'll sit and listen more.

i'll listen because he

has no one else,

i'll listen until sleep

puts him down.