resting next to a good gal
who has nothing to do next day,
I lay in wait and weight,
wishing for an exit or and exterminate.
she snores and I drink and type,
making one hell of a racket
well into the wishful morning
where cocaine dreams become Catholic nightmares, somehow.
enviously, I don't know
how her eyes are shut so solid,
because even the air condition
can't cool me to slumber.
kissing her for memories
and because I might disappear,
our hours disagree
for time and blood circulation.
cuddling happens because I am cold and bored,
but the tapestry on the wall is 2007,
and I want to flee for the sun,
but I want to fuck in the morning.
just when my eyes start to close,
for respite and reality,
the iPhone alarm notifies me especially
that this isn't working.
there is nothing I can do now,
but destroy her phone
while worrying about the rumbler
so my eyes will pretend to be closed for a year here.