Five dollar foot long

So it’s Monday or Tuesday in the world you chose

Can’t . afford to switch to a new I. S’pose

Or afraid to ask permission

Fellowships in pews and robes

So you suck on your juice box for your 30 minute break

Living the American. Dream awake

Mix it up a bit. Today we have pickles on our


And just enough hope. To get on and fake

From floppy to virtual reality

Dirty places midnight’s sticky floors
Cigarette ashes rubbed on junk sick sores
Tattoo party
Taboo smarty
You talk too much after a score
Don’t stop for red lights even for a whore

Under cushions used up works
Fulfilled condoms tied off jerks

I just need a place to sleep
Won’t wake up next to beauty queens another dead body bloody scene
Parkbench beds suicide on Miami beach

My alarm clock pigeon shits on me
A nightstick cop, jail a better place to be
Cardboard and subway vents provide heat
Breakfast of spat up fratboy feasts
Passed out blacked out fell asleep

I shaved today. Can’t recognize my own memories
Look like a cherub angel smooth baby clean
Microsoft’s neon lights rebooting me

One red square, a blue, a green
No longer homeless I’m a software machine
I copied and pasted a sequel it seems

That perfect stranger everyone knew

Montelpiciano enumeration
Tagliatelle in celebration
Dim the lights you look so swell
Age can beauty who can tell

Franziskaner weissbier or bock
Schnitzel and spaetzle nosh and talk
Pretzels and castles posh the walk
France is kinder when queers do flock

Whatever the flavor the aperitif
As you settle for shuteye 800 countsheets
You remember in shadows a listening thief
An Irish goodbye. A poetry beat

An unpaid crime for. It was me

I’ve slipped away ten thousand times

Tiramisu banana foster and wines

Animals in the wild they hunt eat

Bleat bleat you’re the sheep

A wolf’s consternation I make the conversation disappear no hesitation taxi cab subway stations physical my ablation, a castration [oxford comma] your coin feels chelation. without yours its mine this starvation

Hard rock

I’m like a chain restaurant in Sicily Singapore Madrid Bologna right. Next door

I’m a whore

Before I sold you what you need

I had to stop. To. Cover up the bleed

And you thought I was a. Befriend. Bartenders get maid and pre(tend)

Serve and.

The end