A sojourn to seek oblivion,
squandering another better
spent elsewhere fall
evening in isolation among
the babbling
inaccessible lonely reaching
with clenched fist
toward "anything 'gotta be
better than this"
shortness of grasp at
"I would give if I
had any to spare" change of venue
trials in daily news
chatter to keep abreast in
the hand is worth a
finger in the bush where I may
take a piss at home
as lightning sees me silhouetted
against an alley wall
by dumpsters I live in until
rescued by hit
squad uzi fire that blows
open my chest
of drawers loaded with black
lace panties opened
at the crotch promising deliverance
to save me the last
dance with my daemon.
Bronze trophy winner
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