Methaqualone Nights

31 Jan


Methaqualone Nights


There was a new mundane drip

when the miserable sat together

on swollen couches

watching the lottery drawing

drinking warm beer

eating tuna from the can

licking the serrated edges

like wolves learning cunnilingus

Then a sitcom rerun comes on

and we measure its quality

by the number of the dead still laughing

When a car alarm goes off

it might as well be time for bed

or to throw the leftovers into the soup

or to forage for cigarette clips in the ashtrays

to put out meatless bones for the feral dogs

rough handjobs

slimsy fingers grasping the cock

nails covered in molting lacquer

a yawning evacuation

an accepting sigh the measure of a dial tone

before the phone is shut off   

before the horses turn to glue for little palms

before another unemployed morning marries a jitter

getting by on a lark

corked and aging



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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings

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