EMPTY WINE
BOTTLES
by Jesse Back
I woke up with a headache
thought of killing myself,

today it seems like a good idea.

I talked with an old lover the night before
asked her if she still believed in God:

'Most days,'
she said

'What about the rest?'

'Those days I drink,
lay in bed,
and think about the meaningless of life.'

Just another old lover.
They are all lovers
and I cast them aside
or they throw me out.

Then we spend the rest of life
casually thinking of each other
on grey days.


Jesse Back was raised on a small farm in southeastern
Ohio. His most recent poetry appears in Mudfish 19, and
Phree Write, and other poems have been published at Cactus
Heart, Offcourse, Twisted Vine, and Marco Polo Arts Mag.