Slide

Some nights I would drink

Just enough

To slide

Into her DMs.

I knew, of course

That I didn’t need

To drink anything

To operate a phone.

But being drunk helped

Certain things

Sometimes.

So down I would slide

Into the darkness

Sipping a fresh beer.

It was crowded

In there

A room filled

With my competitors.

Each of us aware

Of the existence

Of the others

Yet unaware

Of their identities.

We waited together

But at least I had

My beer.

Every now and then

A trapdoor would open

In the ceiling

Illuminating

The gloom.

Every now and then

A string of letters

Would float down

Down to one of us

And he would feast on it

The others watching

Intently

Jealously

As

The

Letters

Fell

Down.

Waiting was the game

And I was tired of waiting

So I’d drink another beer

And another

And when the letters

Fell down to me

I missed them all.

See you tomorrow

My brothers.