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

dying

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 4^th 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

burning

gloriously dead