travels below radar

I fucked my last fuck
for an interview.
A dick they asked me to chew,
but I can’t ‘cause i
choke
          back
                    tears.
it’s been like that for years.

Let me see!
          fog-less and in color
“Please let me see”
I say to the girl in front
of the snake cages.
I’ve wasted ages.
now it boils out
from dreams
and screams
and ties
          over / under collars
I got this shotgun for three dollars ($3)
but I can smell
the stench of my life
wafting through the overhead fan
slapped at by suited men
with nice hats,
but not nice hearts.
I’d share a beer with them
if they could know my sins.
they’re not so deep with
          quality
I’ve just worked for their
          quantity.
it’s not enough to know
how to plow the fields
when the oxen have broken free
and our dis-ease with the world
sours our days,
we on porches waste away.

Soapbox Artist: collecting art & literature of the worst kind