I couldn't have done a better job Of falling apart, but that's alright I fell with the grace of dirt The trees bent red around me and I should write the folks more ofter Than I do, but I don't And like a bottle spun loose on The concrete I crawl. I spin my bottle down the tracks. It splits in half, exactly. I fall down on the pavement. The trees bend down around me. I take the subway back downtown, Collect the papers we drew on, Address the envelope to Mom.