Functional Poem by Floyd Crenshaw

the pool of vomit
over the curb
beside my right shoulder
my freshly skinned
friend
laying slowly dissolving
in stomach acid
bourbon
and high alcohol beer.

there was food
but i found that out
the next day.

life was easier
when i never knew
what family
could possibly become
at this point
i've had it all wrong
as this woman
my aunt
walks me down
and holds my arm
just asking to walk
i was shot
she asked me why
i broke down
no idea why
a slight release
to a side that never was around
after some time
why?
it doesn't matter any more
these times will not happen
much longer
what will i have to say
in five years?
will it be the same
as today?
i hope not
they certainly hope not
the god of conversation
frowns on self-deprecation
with out income
after the ball
i
make the effort
to know much more
an effort i have not taken
in years
actual affection
actual need
actual satisfaction
i
slowly bled
with bare feet
my heart spurts
i
am happy
to have found
this type of life

there is hope still
in the art of
continuing conversations
and to become
the anti-thesis
of dysfunction.