12:27am
new years (morning?)
still feels
like old years
stained with nicotine
and spiritual indifference
i’m struggling to compose
our inevitable resolutions
swept up in a
beer and bourbon haze
and scattered along
rhythmic distortions
with toilet bowls
that resemble
astrological signs
the cats that are never satisfied
and a soft sadness looms
tonight the gods grant no favors
to members of the lost tribe
damn these rough and uncertain
strangers
confined and waiting
for better days
what have they done to us?
not much time left
to script
this new
(ab)normal
and they say
the end
is just a new
beginning
but i find myself
captivated
by the spirit of
tired resistance
everything seems
unruly
and i can’t seem to find
that sacred center of balance
or the words to write
this innocuous reality
into a satisfactory perfection