18 Sep




“… like Mike, I need a war time consigliere.”

                                                                – Andrey Bystrov


my favorite dappled leaden suit

waits as patient as a juror

supine on my bed wet with last night’s sweat

I snort a line

so I can struggle

to the bathroom in the junkie tempo of a lost hound

and shave myself for court


walking to silvered somber Centre

I opine

strictly for the editor

about American drug policy

a little to the right of Immortal Technique

as the skyscrapers swim along my skin

smoking the sky through a dirty stem


the judge

a few inches taller

than the emperor of France

talks of social parasites

only a few blocks away

from where cocaine and nervous phonecalls will decide

the design of your financial purgatory

a sepsis stop for

the 2,3,4,5 rails

the J close by on Broad

and the N,R on Rector

yet I just hope they open the windows here

to let a little chill in

so I can breathe

and wait to be abstracted

diagnosed by someone like Jules Cotard


Leave a Reply

Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings

Copyright © 2010 - 2018 All Rights Reserved.