Maybe Milwaukee

Fucking Wisconsin.

Keeps fucking coming after me.

I’m reading, trying to escape,

and they find me.

---

I’m getting advice to explore

— anywhere —

Europe’s on the table.

---

“But do you know

where I’ve heard is great?”

(And I somehow fear and know

what it’s going to be.)

Fucking. Wisconsin.

---

I’ve heard it’s great before –

I’ve been told I would love it,

by you.

But now that it’s yours (pl.),

I can’t go –

and it really wouldn’t matter

except that it keeps

fucking coming up!

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I would go

— not to be closer to you —

but to find me.

---

Would I?

I’ll never know because you and

she will already have

it all there.

---

So I’m staying — gone,

staying lost

not being anyone

to you or anyone.

---

But at least I

won’t be

living in fucking Wisconsin.