by Tavis Cote
Illustrated by Pepper Pieroni
Amos Lee and tears to match Cup of coffee, bolted latch Hours deep, but can’t relax I think of friends 2 a.m. and edge of life A whispered “help” to empty strife Tonight might be the fucking night I think of them I could just sleep to endless hope Of things improved when I awoke But in my hand there is the rope I play pretend Yet on and on the silence stands The knot finished by shaky hands There’s no one here to understand My legs extend Some people’s sadness They can show And live to see their circle grow But guys like us? you’ll N E V E R Know Until the end To guys with guys they never call To guys whose best friend is the wall To anyone with heart at all Men need a friend Be. that. friend.