hello, i must be going
standing on the corner
of nostrand at eastern parkway
in the heat
a cup of coffee in my hand
nursing a hangover
or maybe still drunk
left the oven on for twenty-four
straight hours
and the computer on maybe longer
broke a wine glass
while emptying two bottles
in the quiet of a friday night
scaring the cats
scaring my wife
blowing fuses trying
to toast a stale bagel
binging on scotch and cheap french
like the worst kind of polack lout
because i’m trying to kill
the summer
but i’m still standing on the corner
of nostrand at eastern parkway
a full saturday work day ahead of me
and time is moving slow
my insides are blown to smithereens
but to tell you the truth
i feel all right
i feel like a prizefighter
i feel so all right
that i want to sparge my feelings
on the next smiling face that walks by
wink
and then pirouette down the next block
to whatever music
is playing out of the cars
sitting idly in the morning traffic
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