he haunts outside every night
peering in at the empty shelves
through a thick pane of glass
where once someone peered in at him
toward the corner
where the bands used to set up
he sees things that haven't been there
for a long time
remembering a cigarette
he wasn't supposed to light
remembering a girl
he wasn't supposed to message on facebook
remembering the keyboard player
the bass player
the banjo player
the sax player
and the drummer
that was when he was alive
that was when Obama was President
that was before the guitar was covered in blood
he only moans when the L passes by
so noone hears
so noone tries an exorcism
he doesn't want to leave
he doesn't want to forget
he doesn't want to be dead
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