lizzie beuhler for the nassau weekly
Lizzie Buehler for the nassau weekly


A single tear

Distorts the light of my iPhone screen

As I watch your spring break Snap Story.


For ten seconds you chug a beer

With some other bro from home

In a Bass Pro Shop hat


Your smile, familiar

Your beer belch, guttural

But who is this companion?


Are you happier with him?

Can he shotgun a beer faster than I can?

Can he freestyle rap, better than I did

That time at Drunk Meal-


when we shared a plate of tenders?

You dipped in honey mustard

I, in barbecue sauce


I can’t help but wonder if that moment was real

Or just a fleeting memory

Like a Snapchat Story,

Distorted by watery eyes. . .


As I watch, I can smell the PBR on your breath

As you shout “Chug!”

and he chugs.

and you begin to chug with him . . .


No homo,






I feel a distance between us.

Like a river.

No, like an OCEAN.

Like the ATLANTIC Ocean.


I remember the last time

I saw you.

TI dancefloor,

Your Polo, wrinkled,

Your smirk, mirthless,

As you chug another PBR

With such ease

And toss it onto an unsuspecting frosh

much smaller in stature.


HELL YEAH, you shout.


I hope you thought about me

Over spring break.

I hope you picture me next to you,

Flicking off the camera


In the TI bathroom mirror.

I hope you Instagram that pic

Because we look DOPE.

Dope AF.


But that moment is gone.

It left with you.

It fled with the winter.


No homo,


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