Down & Out on a Thursday

I see I’m not the only one at this diner who brought a notepad and pen. 

his drawings are better but I have made the better order.

By Dillon cranston


When I say, I’m in love!

     And my friends murmur

        I do not love that for him.

Well, why not me? Just yesterday,

I said I had met someone –– my friend asked,


              They call me

                    “a serial dater”

                        even the ones

                            who are in love,

                              accuse me for trying

they say: you should work

to be content on your own

    –– aren’t they insane?

            For thinking a person

            can subsist on himself.

So forgive me, if I meet someone

new & and my hopes become high...

Really, forgive me.

I am actually sorry.

yellow paper school bus

passes through the window

and returns to falling rain.

chocolate bar crescendo

              once I thought

I had got a golden ticket

                and what if this story

                doesn’t have a happy ending?

Anything could happen.

This is what I love,

                and that’s what


                        frightens me.

My hair only exists

            to be cut by her.

O, when shall I let it down?

She once asked to be spread

out in the garden, to be nearer

to the cats and I cried

into the covers.

She told

me: in this life,

    we are travelers


        some of the time


                    (old Buddhist


I know that somewhere in time,

        I am screaming and crying,

            somewhere being born,

somewhere else

        petting Jojo, somewhere,

 where I love,

           she is swimming through
blue waters, her body painless,

              suspended   in

I even said to my friend:

“I wonder if it’s not unattractive

for a guy to tell a girl

how he’s feeling.”

She replied:

    “Wait what?”

                I think

                    bell hooks

                    would have

                            burst out


    I want to ask the

fellows working

      if they are mad at me.

I have been here quite

  a while, now. Everyone

who was seated, when I

   arrived has left.

   I keep refilling

       my own water,

  and zoning out,

 staring at the other
  patrons, eating.

    I will ask for

     another cup of coffee.

        Either they are mad,

        or I will receive it,

either way,

  my heart
might explode.



Alright, alright,

when it stops raining,

    I’ll leave.

When I can unwedge my

foot from my mouth,

        I’ll go.

But...I wore all my layers

today, and filled all up

    on chocolate chip


No way I fit through

the door.

I actually know someone here...

    I saw her at an art show...

        didn’t know she

        had a boyfriend...


I’m prettier than her,



              tell me why

              my raincoat

                  is the cleanest

                  thing I own?




            I’ll go.