(one
day they will institutionalize me
until i see
charles bukowski
never existed
but is a delusion
that dances with my dementia)
walked
past a squirrel
in
the gutter
must
have been hit
by
a car
it
kept turning its upper torso
trying
to get going
but
the back of it was paralyzed
the
look on that squirrel’s face
i
know it would have been a grace
to
have bashed in its head
but
i just couldn’t
kept
walking
though
my memories
have
picked up an extra
piece
of baggage
cumbersome
and difficult to carry
i
remember when i had a snake
was
suppose to feed it live mice
but
was told to incapacitate
the
mouse before tossing it in the cage
for
the safety of the snake
i
slammed the mouse’s head
against
the balcony railing
it
put its paw on his head
and
looked at me
i
gave the snake away
stick
with cats
select
the full album
“wish
you were here”
pink
floyd
hung
over from beer
i
just now started on schnapps
and
another unnecessary cigarette
can’t
remember the last time
i
felt happy
upbeat
even
if i weren’t on these streets
i
would probably just stare
at
a white washed wall
like
one does when trying
to
minimize the effects
of
a bad acid trip
pass
by the half eaten carcass
of
a mouse
i
live each moment
like
it’s my last
which
will probably hasten the end
but
this elusive happiness?
does
it elude me
because
it doesn’t exist?
change
my state of mind?
only
supports my
proselytization
of perception
besides
once
this bottle’s fully nipped
i
will be laughing
quoting
cather
“death
comes for the archbishop”
ah,
the song
“wish
you were here”
i
stop
plaster
my back to a building
close
my eyes
sing
if
it all ends at this moment
“all’s
well that ends well”
***
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