Every fucking where I go
When I put my head to the ground
I can hear louder than the rest of the noises
Somebody’s phone is vibrating
I cannot see how long I’ve been
Sober I cannot see how I am rebuilding
From the ground up while
I am still stuck in the rubble
All I can hear is what I am no longer
And the echoing crane truck promise noise
Of how wonderful this new structure will be
I cannot see how sober I’ve become
As I push with all of my might
A wooden board off of my face
And see a fence
At my construction site
With a big sign posted
Touting a painting of the building
That is ‘Coming Soon!’
It looks fantastic
And miles away from this hole
In the ground they say will be the basement
It looks so clean
I think
As I rest my head against
The rubble pile
And feel the vibrations of someone
Else’s cell phone somewhere
And I am reminded that all I really know
Is that it is not mine.
