right now…

ain’t got a thing

next two days might be unpleasant.
i already know the drill.
shit, it’s been used enough times
on my joints to be an old friend
come to visit. i’d love to know
why this fucker only comes
when supply runs low.

feel the good old hunger,
rest in those kind sheets
wake up feeling better
sometime in the future.
is the something farther than sadness,
waiting undetermined amounts of time
for something else to come along?

is this what is euphemistically
called experience? i want to tell
someone i seen enough,
tasted enough,
felt enough,
heard enough;

still the show goes on,
with no way to get up to leave
before it’s over.

even then, the
next show is even longer.
refreshments not assured,
but a man can hope.

can he still do that?
————————————
Inspired by the suicide squad of Fairfax County. Y’all really ain’t allowed in here anymore. I mean, we’ve talked about all of this so many times before you’ve left me no interest in bringing it up again. This one’s for y’all, and remember to go fuck yourselves. Always remember that. Love you. <there's no key for maniacal laughter, so do that part yourself. Like Richard when they asked him what to do next.

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One Response to “right now…”

  1. […] of a piece from April written after reading a story in the local paper. See original piece here. Cross-posted to […]

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