Oh! Fuck!

Its been a week now and im tired
not of you at all i just havent slept
since Sunday but this is what happens
when you live off nothing but coffee
for a week straight sewing machine foot
and a stomach ache so heres the question
then will more help us stay awake or
give us the caffeine blues which is
pretty much just laying in bed awake
feeling like glue waiting to happen—

a horse that aint gonna be racing
because of a bad leg

a high school football injury

Whats the term im looking for?
Invariably lame?

Photojournalism

I burned the negatives. The camera
makes you uncomfortable. Coat pulled
up over your face. You turning towards
the wall. Just misses

the chance to remember you. It’s
become a game. One quick snapshot
for someone to bag. But you… you’re good. You
put Polaroid out of business, when you restarted
the Trojan war in the living room.

Arms reaching out and flashes banging
blue picture shows inside my eyelids. I dove
like secret service in front of a Nikon that had
its eye on your silhouette from behind the couch.
You were staring down the crowded hallway,
lined with stupored soldiers booming chorus;
war songs from older days.

well I’m a-walkin’ down the road
with my head in my hands,
lookin’ for a girl who needs
a worried man. only one kind
of favor I’ll ask you, just
allow me one more chance.

We made our way,
through the corridor filled with drunkards,
downstairs to the porch,
to smoke a cigarette
where the light showed right on your face.

You were wearing that hyacinth dress.
You were soaked in champagne.
You looked into my eyes.
I looked down
and dug into my chest.