I am a lonely narcissist,
In a fit, in a struggle,
And straining to exist.
The almonds are sugared,
The potatoes: starched.
A hipster-dream
Of third-world colours,
Stretched out on my back,
And lamenting the distance of stars.
Bumper caravans of **** and cherry cola vacations;
They fill my mind in the coming of summer.
There’s beer bottled tears
And eyes left bloodshot,
In this fevered remission
To a life we forgot.
But change, is change, is change;
I’m listening to jazz and not heavy guitar,
And my teenage lover is a sacrificed cathedral
In the laying down of all arms.
Still, I’m looking to stay sober
For a week or so, or more.
But another day, year or era to come;
For now I’ll just get up and off the floor.
I’m self-obsessed but devoid of self,
In a rigid flow of car window reflections;
A body check to see if my shadow still exists.
How much does a shadow weigh?
But first: where can you get me some blow?
You see, I need to sharpen up my ambition,
To thaw out in the frozen snow.
It can’t be long, old friend,
Before one of us succumbs to addiction.
A ****** jaw, or a healer’s mouth;
Well, I guess that either can offer
A place for us to mend.
I think I see my life now.
Its purple light is cast off in the distance.
I am coming off chemo
For a couple weeks more,
I am combing the meadows,
And I am asking for more.
c