This little micro was recently rejected for an anthology so I thought I’d post it here.
Here No More
You disappeared with my vintage Tom Petty LP, the one I found in almost pristine condition at Mushroom Records while you were perusing bubblers. Death Metal was your thing but finally you begrudgingly admitted Tom’s lyrics landed like the Lord in a lightning bolt. We spent hours listening to “our album” on our thrift store turntable. Now the lyrics ramble over the bed where our arms and legs once tangled in monkey bar acrobatics. They play hide and seek between the quilts my grandma made, whispering lonely duets in my midnight morass and dancing across the ceiling, floaters in my eyes moving down the wall and across the door: Don’t come around Don’t come around Don’t come around….
Tom knew when it was time to move on and it’s only in the closeted claws of night I allow myself to think of you. When I think like this I feel those words crawling over my body - I’m not so bad and I love you so - the last words you spoke on the last night after our last argument. The very song I was listening to when the cops knocked on our door.
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One of his songs referenced in the micro - a favorite of mine:
“ I got over a thousand dollars in the bank
And I'm all right … “ 🎩