The rain pours out of a cardboard box
As I meet my destiny on the breakfast table
A clink-clink-clinking preludes the silent plop
Into a lake of frigid white-
Cheerio, boy.

Outside the sky is dark but tinted with incandescence
As the window slowly steadies from my
Vantage point. Your hair is a-tousle
And your covers are engraved upon your tear-puffed face.
Cheerio, boy.

You were so happy a week ago
You made her breakfast in bed.
While I was stowed away in the cupboard-
The wretched smell of bacon and toast and guilt.
Cheerio, boy.

Let alone that she labored as she ate.
She said she would have preferred me
And saved you the trouble. But you would have
None of it. You could do better- you were.
Cheerio, boy.

Breakfast forgives all inIdiscretions,
She confided. It was a plainness- or the wait-
The faded incandescence. She whispered
Fantasies to me. She told me she was leaving you.
Cheerio, boy.

I must admit I feared for my life
As you took your rage out on the counter
She looked on with anxiety- or was it fascination?
Which turned to disgust when you apologized.
Cheerio, boy.

It wasn’t plainness. It wasn’t the wait.
(She finally concluded that you were weak.)
The streetlamp exposes your soggy countenance.
The milk has turned lukewarm.
And I, now worthless, remained an untouched
Cheerio, boy

 

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