I tell you I’m not good at commitment
you look at me surprised. It’s your line, in my mouth.
You’re that John Wayne no-emotions type,
weather-worn face, tightly closed lips,
and I spill everywhere, an overflowing river after a hard rain.
I move all the time, I tell you. I’m unsettled. I fidget.
A year in a place is a challenge,
three is a record.
I don’t have a contract, a lease, a cell phone plan.
I’m getting ready to take off as soon as I land.
You thought you were the one always likely to run,
but look at you; in the same county your whole life-
same job, same friends, same pick-up truck-
same favorite food since you were ten.
You don’t believe me, think it’s a trick I’m playing,
trying to lure you in, like you’re such a great catch.
Maybe you are, here.
But I’m not gonna be here for long- I just came for a brief spell
then I’m gone.