Tuesday, January 29, 2013

poem of the day 01.29.13

grant’s tomb

in the broken down
liquor store

where i sometimes reside

trying to grab enough booze
to break a fifty

a cheap bottle of whiskey
some wine
and airport bottle for the ride home

when the jackass in front of me
breaks a benjamin
on a six-dollar pint of vodka

with little more than a laugh
and a shrug

pissing off the cashier so much
that when it’s my turn
he gives me that look
that says so many things
in a classy joint such as this one

that i slap down my only hamilton
and sigh

figure i’ll try doing my banking
at the
grocery store

this evening.


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