hung over
for real today
the invention of alcohol by man
was both a blessing and a curse
thank the gods for
the black and white kitten
resting softly with caffeine and nicotine
on my shaky hand

drunk sleep is such an
incomplete equation
stirred and risen
at the strangest of times

i lost my car
and crossed the tracks
at a dangerous moment
as
dreams of
past loves
failed memories
hippy festivals
long walks
and abandonment
visited me in the night

the subconscious mind is so hard to define
and
beasts lie still in the center

i don’t feel quite as bad as i should
the cats are quite this morning
but the street is loud
and the crickets are still humming
like broken alarm clocks

i’m hungry
yet i’m
too lazy
to cook an egg

square and
running on empty
i’m feeling inconsequential
once again

i’m still floating
in this forsaken dreamscape
and
the stillness of this awkward moment
penetrates my mind
like midnight stilettos
scraping through warm meat

for one brief instant
i am
somewhere else
a place where
we can lie in bed all day
drinking, laughing, and fucking
a place where war and poverty
are just abstract fictions

but before long
the mistress of modern life
returns me to her solid embrace
and our chance for reverie
is somewhat diminished

but whatever
no rush today
work is miles away

summer is almost over
and i’ve done so little
i’m a new england man
without a plan
and i’m not ready for
winter

no worries though
cause at this moment
i almost feel like an artist
calm
and at peace