It would be nice if you called me
back and remember that I’m alive.
No one understands my sadness, except
the moon, homeless alcoholics, and you.
At work, I am surrounded by liquor bottles,
but I wait for you to buy me all my drinks.
I like the way a whiskey sour enters my throat,
the same way your voice soothes my depression.
Sometimes, I am all the sad music in the world;
some days, I even miss you. In another life,
I would have recognized you in my reflection
and let you hold my hand.
Either way, call me back.
Nikolai Garcia sleeps in Compton, CA. He works with homeless youth in East Hollywood, and is an Assistant Editor for Dryland, a literary arts journal based in South Central Los Angeles. He has been published in the anthologies, The Coiled Serpent, (Tia Chucha Press), Extreme (Vagabond Books), No Tender Fences, and in various literary journals. His first chapbook, Nuclear Shadows of Palm Trees, was published by DSTL Arts. He is also a founding member of the Coleman Collective.