By Jim Davis
Reason maintains many things, though not
the rings left on the dark wood table,
the torn label from bottles of India brew.
I got fat. She was sad
to be falling out of love with me.
Walking through Chicago winter, you can
only see your breath if you stop moving.
A taxi slowed to see if I was fare.
And that’s pretty much the whole story.
Clutching at Straws 