When The Pipes Are A-Knocking...

"I get on the train and I just stand about
now that I don't think of you.
I keep falling over, I keep passing out,
when I see a face like you."

Today's visitor to my home turned construction site
was the plumber.
Knocking pipes and blocking the driveway
the water was promptly shut off and I was once again
a refugee about town.

I've heard it said that you don't get what you want
but you get what you need.
Well if this is the case
then something big is coming which all signs point to
as either being lost in the jungle
or homelessness.
I'm becoming very adept at survival.

I've never adapted very well which
- if one spends any extended amount of time with me -
becomes painfully evident.
Especially at the end of a relationship.
I shake my head at the thought of the tears
which I have so shamefully shed
in front of a retreating lover.
I wonder if years down the line they remember it.
I, the emasculated.

The details of my life story in the past six months
are getting blurry.
I find it difficult to recall the names of the evil
or afflicted,
or bit players in my overdramatized journey.

I suppose that I should be grateful.

I do appreciate the plumber,
and the shiny new showerhead,
but he is unwittingly just another reminder that
it is nearing time to leave.
Six more months and I would like to be there -
a there in the next there in a long line of theres.
Possibly better for the experience.
A little stronger,
a little leaner,
and with a slightly dryer eye.