“souvenir”
my baseball bat does most of
the work when it comes to
disposing any leftover souvenirs
from sometime prior-to. course
i’ve got enough kerosene to do
the job, but it’s cathartic to smash
before you burn, if we’re gonna
be sensible about all this,,,
pictures burn best & picture frames
smash easier than pieces of
paper exposing the asshole i mighta
been back in my asshole days.
right now a snake slithers across
pondscum water baking in sunlight
(code red kinda day i’m told.)
me & a cigarette both burn in the sun;
too fucking muggy to think about
past lives. i stabbed my
still-burning cigarette out in a
clamshell ashtray i found
on some forgotten beach
trip. don’t remember
when or where.
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