Glass Poetry Press

Volume One Issue Three

Ryder Collins

How to apologize to -----, a Manual in progress

One by one, break off your fake fingernails. Label them emotions. Seal them in an envelope. Cyber-stalk -----. Note how many hits his name gets. Eat that many single edamame while drinking cheap, refrigerated sake. Send a check for his mini-bar tab, or, if you have no money, attend a Quaker meeting. Talk, the entire hour, about his light within. Read his books. If, due to guilt and/or depression (a wasted chance, what might have been), you cannot read his books, familiarize yourself with the space they take up on your shelves. Imagine you are square and paper, dry and thin, you slide so easily in next to them. Visit every tavern, within a ten block radius, of the hotel room where you didn't hook up. Shout, "I remember your name," after each Stella you down. Hire 2 over-the-hill hookers to beseech him for a threesome. Write something, anything. Tear open the fingernail envelope and put your words in w/ them. Duct tape the damn thing shut. Pin it to your hairshirt, and, if you ever get lost, give it up to the nearest stranger in care of -----.