my eyes are little television screens
projecting into my brain
still life images that capture my home
in all its unwavering solitude
the music curls around me
i feel the devil's blood in my veins
as a satanic elvis serenades me
with old refrains i can relate to
i lament my present foray 
into social media poetry
but i'm much too intoxicated 
for an emotional reponse
i choke down this rip of mad man OG
a sip of coffee mixed with E&J;
and wonder if hank bukowski
would have been a hit on facebook
had he emerged today.