it's the eggs and hashbrowns
fillin' up our paper plates
and the root beer
which to germans tastes like
toothpaste

and the endless ribbons
and wrapping paper

it's creepy uncle nate
spying on his sweet
delicious niece

w

I welcome the water 

after the whiskey

my well-being is washing

down the waistline of winter

the war is wailing

but not in the west

here, we just wait.

I wake up and walk

and welcome

the white snow.

all these woes,

and all i can say is

whoa. we're

just wasting

away.

isn't it wonderful?

bed

Outside my bed
there is a cold dead winter,
gravity kneading its knuckles
crunching down the vertebrae;
there is a world of war and worry
cancer and clear cuts
millions of internet bloggers
and telemarketers,
tellin' you they know what it's
all about (maybe they do)

outside of these covers
there is a deflating world
hissing out the last of the helium,
the streets are whited out
and in all angles
there is an ever expansive
sanctuary of suffering
my bed is
my guardian,
my forgetfullness

hung

mind crumblin'
like coffee cake
mixin' whisky and pabst
and hormones
not
a
good
idea.

but bukowski
would have
wanted it
this
way

destruct
self.
no.
abort.

saturday morning

it's december 13th
day after my mother's birthday...
fuck.

it snowed this morning
but now it's rain
and my gutter is makinng this haunting sound
that sounds like stomach. washing machine.
the fish tank still putters
and the water in there is getting
pretty bad.
Poor fish.
Today, I think, I will not spend any money.
besides
one 8oz cup of black poison.
one dollar
from the cafe called sweet life
just a bunch of broke gals
workin for college or booze

I got the blues
cuz i spent all my money on booze
i should change the water
in my tank.