The dull drool
That drowns out the day;
If I Was Born A Hundred Years Earlier
I’d have said things like, “No, I don’t have gas lighting,
What’s wrong with candles? ”
The sun ain’t up,
It shines pink and indigo;
It was red and orange
Just a half hour ago,
I wake up; drink a large cup of heartburn.
I scrape last night’s suicides from my teeth.
I put on my black fedora and turn
Out the door, wearing it like the night’s sheath.