my legs

ache

with twelve

hours of running in place

to power yakuza money laundering

machines

 

but today is rest

and not having to

hide the smell of death

as last nites scotch leaves me

to make room

for

balls hanging out the right leg

of my boxers

picking a couple days lint

from my belly

button cups

of coffee

 

its enough to make any man

forget

letters with nowhere to go

and phones that never ring

bombs in the nite

and the little girls

that will never learn how to swim

jeffery dahmer

and sadaam housein

grain rotting in the silos

and the 37 that froze to death

in the streets of boston

this winter

bill gates

and what id do

for the money he makes

every time he takes a shit

 

and when hunger

overtakes wanting another

drink

its close enough

to being glad

im alive

 

i smile

just a little

in relief

at being able

to name the emptiness

for just a moment

the woman at the next table

has an ass

that goes from

two inches below her bra strap

to

an inch above her knees

 

children will freeze

to death this winter

while donald trump has

a thousand empty rooms

in a dozen empty houses

 

im chasing scotch

with red wine

 

the bartenders 12 year old

girlfriend

is hoping to find puberty

under the tree

this christmas

 

the ganges is filled

with the starved to death

while big macs walk the streets

with champagne and more

blow jobs than i ever had

 

remembering

the taste of the blood

in my mouth

this afternoon

and i order

another shot

while the rats are in the alley

enjoying our garbage

 

which is more than i can say

for me

the dogs bark

at another passing

car

below my darkened window

as i sit

cigarette and red wine

watching

the long red hair

stuck to the sole

of my right sock

wave as i breathe

 

it cant be that

long since ive vacuumed

 

the not quite full

moon

hanging there

summer turning to fall

 

soon even the leaves

will be gone

there was a hawk

circling

over the field

to my left

as i drove to work

this afternoon

 

catching updraft

after updraft

in a desperate ballet

of prey

 

my woman

told me today

that she cant look at me

for too long

because she will SWOON

WITH LOVE

and the desire

to be with me

for

ever

 

so

she slept with her boss

two nites ago

to make herself feel better

 

footsteps keep walking

passed my door

 

and walking

in to buy another bottle

tonite after work

a homeless man

with shopping cart and beard

overflowing with whats left

of his life

compliments me

on my work tie

 

yellow and orange suns

wearing sunglasses

on a brite red background

 

i told him

it was designed

by a 7 year old girl

named stephanie

who had a terminal disease

and is probably dead now

 

he cackled and clapped

and said

ITS WONDERFUL

JUST WONDERFUL

 

i kept on

to the store

knowing

he was rite

but

not about what

Piskarev

throat slit

razor still in his hand

slept finally

without a dream

 

noone noticed the smell

noone went to his grave

the whores still worked

the streets

the pastries still tasted

as delicious

clerks and artists

and students

all hoped

for his room

 

she never even knew

his name

woman in a blue dress

on a thursday night alone in a room

sometimes

having a woman

you hate

in bed

next to you

is better

than an empty pillow

 

you drink

 

for both

their absence

and their presence

 

but sometimes

the nite

and your room

echo a little less

when there

is another body in the room

 

when she lays

on you

she may be

your shield

against the world

or

the last weight

that crushes

you

 

but she is there

and you are there

and that is better

than being

nowhere

alone

maybe its the fruit flys

and the way they circle

and perch on my

drinking glass

like buzzards

on a cliff

 

or maybe

its the moths

and the way

they fly into the light

and fall dead

 

or maybe

its the sound of a baby continuing

to wail for its mamma

in the abandoned

house next door

where the homeless squat

among the needles and empties

 

or maybe

its just sunday nite

looking at the polaroids

and rolling over

on our bed

listening to the upstairs neighbor

yelping through a fuck

 

but i think

maybe hitler had it rite

when

he built his bunker

to hide away

with his virgin wife

and offing themselves

when the world at war

got too close