That's it... That's the poem

I know I'm not supposed to drink & post. But going over some poems for class tomorrow & I did an edit I really like.

                The Poem


Scrambled eggs get so boring
That's it.
That's the poem.

Burn the pages as I write them
just to give the words
some brevity.

Slice off your face & sew it
onto the dogs neck
His tongue hanging out of your mouth
Panting.

I watched a young blind woman walk through the
park on a pleasant spring afternoon.
Her legs were tan
Her legs were shaven
Her beauty inexplicable
I followed her for four city blocks as she tapped ahead with her cane
I had never seen such alluring legs
God Damn you I am lonely
I sat back down on the sidewalk to seethe in shame
I am not the every man
I am just a very man
but I'm not man enough.

Waking up in my own bed
with some relief that the cops were not called
for what I dreamt they had been
My felonious feeling fleeting upon waking
My apartment not the crime scene
I thought I had seen

I am not a pariah lady, I eat breakfast just like you.
my yolk no more yellow
my toast no less burnt around the edges

The Worst Ever?

No, it gets worse
believe me.



Add: 2 parts bourbon
       1 part low self esteem

Bring to a boil & let simmer over low heat
while whisking in
      1 tsp. of my usual medicine
      2 C. of your red affection


Like I said
    Scrambled eggs get so boring
  that is it
  that's the poem