For Robin

Mike called once a week
And then he called once a month
He called once every few years
Which turned into never at all
Missing an artist
For the loss of their art
Isn’t grief, we’re heartbroken
For Robin and hate what he did
But real, true, and private loss
Is so hard to express
I miss going with Stephen
To bars that serve chicken
Working with Caleb
Getting drunk on the clock
And to all the junkies:
Can you remember me anymore?
Can you remember me at all?
Can you remember me at all?
In October, I saw
How he crashed head-on
With beer for blood and no seatbelt
We kept the notebooks
He left under his bed
We collected newspaper
And met every Tuesday night
Gave Brian the sweaters
And Stephanie got the bike
He called once every few years
Which turned into never
Hearing from him again
To all the junkies:
Can you remember me anymore?