punched in my fat wine gut & lethargy
spills like a capri-sun punctured. each
step errs like a slurred word and each
stumble's a fumble for the right curse.

oh! despair is a soft orange glow cast
-ing shadows on my throat and i think
i might just ride the sunflares to dusk.
remember me when you see a red sky.

my shoulder aches like a gift
- like a punch-holed receipt
for thrifted yen. i died tonite
when i saw your shirt. i died
when i paid and left the traffic
to stick double-quick needles
into my dead-numb chest.
sew the rain into my veins.
stitch into me a never-ending
thread of longing. i don't have
to be a poet or scientist to know
that i'd rather die than admit
i'm not good-looking.