what do i want to do?
blue lips tugging at a cigarette
smoke waltzes up my arm
now in the ashtray lie my crumbling ideals
isn’t it funny?
trapped in an old film noir,
the venetian blinds cut up hard light like
concrete or
cold fish.
a little red sun! my cigarette dies
(it’s killing me)
maybe it’s not so funny after all.
i forget why i want to go to college
i strike another match and the little
halo of light echoes
orange on the blue walls.
hard to breath in this light.
the morning’s sunshine scrambled eggs
congeal in the sink
but i can’t move myself to
clean the plate.
(2006)
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