One more year

18 Sep

————-

One more year

 

One more year

to change my perspective

to change my life

One more year

and then I’m done

One more year

like waiting on the potassium chloride

through appeal after appeal

One more year

scraping resin from the weed grinder

One more year

because I can’t drink like I need to

in order to function

anymore

goddamn peptic ulcers

my guts burn like a desert scream

One more year

enough resin to get into the tobacco

like a late night dress

One more year

to stay off the dope

One more year

to publish, to write, to fuck

to live

love a little, maybe

and try to stay away from blue ink

 

One more year

prosaic

marooned

making shitty jokes about

nabokov, the literary onanist

One more year

for fewer and fewer laughs

One more year

to remind

how we suffer well together

a strange woman’s kiss to make it morning

mourning

a true experiment

One more year

and then it’s done

One more year

to wait and wager and wade through the spin

One more year

I don’t owe anyone any more than that

One more year

to let the city dream

One more year

to write, to live, to love a little

to rid the monster of myself

not the other way around

one more year, my dear

 

(for Gangsta Stein and everyone else writing unreadable avant-garde poetry)

———

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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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