Long Distance

The jar of peanut butter you never finished

sits on my bookshelf, next to the picture of us stuck firmly on my wall.

Your Ohio State t-shirt that I wear to bed is tucked under my pillow,

it still has your smell.

I can’t bring myself to wash it.



Your pixel face says, “I love you” –

I hear your voice in short bursts before the connection dies.

That’s it for the night. I was never a technological person.

3,000 miles away

you walk where we used to walk, and drink where we used to drink,

kiss where we kissed and kissed.

I’m alone in a winter wonderland surrounded by McDonalds and capitalism.

I like Obama, though.



You, with your SuperValu sandwich and Irish life,

me, with my Café Mocha and American dream,

It doesn’t fit – any of it, but I just can’t quit you-



A fitting poem for my situation, which I wrote in Electronic Sales and Marketing today. Productive class anyway.