Ending
flaccid seated upon the couch,midnight, lapping cheap vodka
from a cup, Jesus, have I come
to this?
I once battled at parties
for a laugh.
now I'm not laughing.
I swallow joylessly and wonder,
How much time will be asked from me?
how many days?
my soul is empty and
a stupefying clarity rests in my brain.
things arrive; they pass
they go to nothing.
I understand the fall of cities, of
nations.
Light shimmers on the cock pit
of a large crane.
I look towards it as if it made sense to
look upward. it's true, the sky has rotted:
it won't be long for any of
us.
