I was in Sweden, craving hash browns from McDonald’s —my favorite. They didn’t have them. No iced lattes. No oat milk. We drove away. And somehow, it made me miss everything I didn’t realize I missed. I miss hash browns from a yellow and red clown. Getting hungry with food already dished, fruit chopped, gas tanks filled. Takeaway from anywhere Tex-Mex, lunch specials, early birds. Fancy flip-flops, chilly sweaters. Every day was a pool day. I miss the weather, chatting about

Memories taste sweeter, or spicier, more sour, bitter even, and too salty because of one special ingredient that enhances their timely...

The ghost of you follows me to this very day It was the end of any other day we stood together strangers bound to similar routes...

Oh the memory, it burns Like accidentally touching a still hot stove Oh please! I can’t be alive anymore Cover me, bury me 12 feet under...