poem of the day 08.29.09

here's an old one from those long lost Buffalo days:

rivers of piss

we talk of love
and loss of time
the two of us
victims
in this city,
even if only for
another year.
we’ve been here
before, dear.
the victims of pittsburgh,
the tragic darlings
of new york city.
but neither were
as bad as this
the dupes of buffalo,
drowning in niagara water,
keeping afloat amongst
the dead,
going for each other’s
throats
while trying to
stay above the surface.
but, yes, i know
this sinking
is my fault
all of it.
the yelling
the complaining
the drinking
the talk of suicide,
and this incapacitating
fear i’ve developed
over everything.
but that has changed.
so let my tears
be the judge for once
because they’ve finally
done it,
and this place has
finally broken me.
there is no more
i can say,
except that i feel all right.
i’ve surrendered the sadness
and given up my buoy
to stick my head
back under the murky water
and look for you,
hopefully finding myself
in the process.

06.22.06