Tuesday, July 2, 2013

poem of the day 07.02.13

bad breath

i am dying
for wine and whiskey
and brooklyn is hotter
than an elephant’s balls these days
but instead i’m sitting on this bus
next to some loud cocksucker
with breath so bad that it is curling my nose hairs
and upsetting my stomach
and he keeps huffing out this disease
his corroded mouth mixture
of onions and dogshit
bitching about baseball and his paycheck
this lousy liberal government
and his barbeque on the 4th of july
i am dying
for wine
for whiskey
a merciful sun
for comfort and escape from this man’s foul bellow
on another friday night in america
that strips the very soul of all humanity
hungry for another seat on this bus
away from this death mouth
an easier plateau of existence
because in moments like this
when i think of the seconds
the hours
the days
the years
all the bad breath that i’ll have to endure
the only joy i can sum up
is the image of me one day
safe in a pine box
gloriously dead

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