A Toast to Lovers

Singing in a dingy bar can get lonely.
Not every word has to have a home.
Businessmen in suits and ties,
Send my love to Broadway, I’m coming home.

I am a genius. Maybe.
Maybe I am faking it.

The black car flashes its lights,
A street light flashes red.
A couple of voices behind me.
Hearing every thought in my head.

My brain aches. Tension headache. Maybe strings are attached.
Maybe I need a break from the world.
Maybe I’ll come back.

I take a sip.
I take another.
I drink a drink, a toast to lovers.


Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His new book is Train of Thought.