boxing match
fragile babies
work deadlines
five short stories
and dozens of poems rejected
fights with the wife
fights with strangers on busses and trains
bad bowel movements
dying cats
broken cable boxes
cockroach infestation
dead computer router
loud neighbor fuck-a-thons
rusted air conditioner
cancer diagnosis decade
city to city life
bad novels
bloody feet of jogging doom
pimple forehead
micromanaging idiots
blabbing their holy terror
heart palpitations
and fungi chest
undercooked chicken and burnt toast
student loans and electric bills
traffic sprawl
night sweats and stomach pain
bum cock and dirty asshole
endless wars
endless wars
co-workers of conversational rage
holiday season blues
tax season on the horizon
beethoven is still dead
life like a boxing match
that you just can’t win
throwing punches in a nightmare
against an opponent
who just shrugs them off and laughs
who keeps coming at you
relentless
daily
the worst kind of flesh sludge
you’ve ever stared down
in this long
unsatisfying life. 10.12.11
No comments:
Post a Comment