Wednesday, August 17, 2016

poem of the day 08.17.16

bad ass bros carry beer cases up the street

bad ass bros carry beer cases
up the street

and i feel like death warmed over
sitting on a stalled bus in the sun

smelling my own stink
i watch them as they strut
with that confidence of youth

like they have their own soundtrack playing

shouting their bullshit at women
turning for the last glance of ass

swinging beer cases
like they’re filled with air

cigarettes dangling from their mouths
slapping five when they get a smile from some chick

bad ass bros carry beer cases
up the street

like wiry gilded gods in a city that was made
just for their pleasure

they don’t know about sitting on stalled buses
feeling like death warmed over

useless and aging
in the reflection of the hot summer sun

as kids cry and people shout into their phones
about wasted time in a wasted life

man….i hope they never do.


                                                           

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