Teflon

Five AM
last time rising
from this bed
1007 California Avenue
Learning and Labor, Illinois.
No one says goodbye
two and one half cold years
they pretend to sleep.

Launch
for eight-thirty Trailways
at the cafe-bus-terminal
not a friend, but I'm young
friendship is in my hope.

I can leave this world
clean as a whistle.
Others leave
while I pretend to sleep.
Tears are only for those you miss
and so far
my eyes are dry.

I slip
into the night
while she tells me
about her grip
and her underwear.
Hardly noticed.

The waters of infinity
are dark and rich as soup.
They do not ripple.