|Jimmy Considers Reconciliation, ink on painted board, 11"x11" 2018|
I'm waiting, tonight, for you, just outside the harbor. Reunion is, alas, unlikely (measures have failed and I have been reduced to bailing) but still, I wait. From here, just beyond the jetty, I list and pitch, watching home fade into constellation — you, a single point, flickering on the horizon. I know what you're thinking: Navigation. The truth is, stars are useless to me. Remember, we vowed never to make beauty utilitarian. So, here we are, separated by so much sea and rock and weather. To be honest, I can't recall where you live. I can picture the front yard: mostly ice plant, sand, and driftwood. And the front door: mostly cerulean blue. Interiors have vanished, bar the smell of Lucky Strikes and fresh-baked bread. So, I drift. Keys, combinations, crowbars — I've opened every bin and hatch. There is nothing, save us.