“Doing Just Fine.”

We don't talk that much

as we did, once a while ago

we're okay, that's what we've convinced

ourselves, in this bleak November.

The rain is noisier than our house

that the words that spew from our lips--

we don't need to be quiet to do so,

we might ask the vague "How was your day?"

but it doesn't matter in the end,

there was no progress for you and me

so I guess it's all just dead(?)