I
On the day of the holy
hangover
Where the sin of
drunkenness
Is forgiven even
By the young, who stay
quiet
To avoid ogre possessed
adult,
My sober head,
Clean and quiet
As the house,
Is foggy with boredom.
So I dance to YouTube
videos
To resurrect the day
I sweat and my bare feet
Begin to hum with
friction
From the old blue carpet
And while the notes play
And the singer mimes
I'm no longer a one armed
scissor
In impossible abyss.
II
It’s a new year and I
begin to forget
Things long left behind:
The hard drugs which
broke my heart
The beautiful women who
turned into habits
The friends who became
strangers,
Full moon connections
which
Cast no shadow
When the sun come up
III
I turn a cheek to the sun
Where the only people
Stepping to the street
Is the shuffling yellow
haired man
In a pony- tail and camo
hat;
The leather goth
With trench coat purple
hair
Receding into middle age;
A young girl cradling
Takeaway soft drink
In limp hungover arms;
A scarf wrapped family
walking
Just to avoid impending
Cabin fever;
Two European teens,
With clouds on their
jeans
And phones to their ears;
A stoned caftan smiling
At the absurdity of the
day;
A man in red A-line dress
Holding hands with two
kids
And me,
With long unkept
moustache
Dreaming of 1997
When I wasn’t fatigued
With terrorist immigrants
And couples having kids
People swapping gold
bands
Psychopathic leaders
And career glass ceiling
Which feels more like a
coffin lid.
