May Day mayday

Not insomnia tonight,

I promise,

but that

damned

Dunkin' Donuts

free-shot-of-espresso-in-an-iced-coffee

promotion

(until June 2 and I love you too, Dustin Pedroia!)

persuading me that

a new cup every afternoon

saves me a dollar and

rescues my last hours of work from numbness and

pumps my fingers full of mojo

(to play those millions of 16th notes yet another night)

and really, this time,

will not

keep me up

way past midnight,

out in the chill, on the patio,

bundled in fleece and Adirondack chair

watching the cats quizzical through the window

while listening to Sufjan Christmas tunes,

yet again,

and fretting,

yet again,

on one man who is busy, busy, busy

(and not writing me back)

and another man who is also busy

(and ambiguous),

and then make me alert enough to have to wonder

why,

again,

I can't control my caffeine lust and

why,

again,

I can't figure out how to get past

Date #3.

May already

looks like a long month.