how long's it been since alice left,
since she fucked up
my costi...
costinution...
constitution?

beats the hell outta me.

bartender could tell me
if his tongue wasn't wavin'
like a fat wet flag
for the lost boys in the corner.

well, me,
all's i can remember for the past forever is
the smell of whiskey and solitude
and the
echo
echo
echo
of
nothin'
nothin'
nothin'
in my empty apartment
with no lips or sweaty love-makin'
to soak it all up.

to hell with love.
to hell with everything.

hey, bartender!
yeah, you,
ya fat fuck.

got any cigarettes?

05/17/2011

Posted on 05/18/2011
Copyright © 2024 Cole Atkinson