one minute in the life

im perched on the top step
sucking in the stale air
i can hear my breaths
they come out in phlegm-rattled puffs
i should quit the cigarettes
stick with the pot

oh my fabulous mary jane
who has brought me laughs
the kind that are never that funny
the second time around
maybe that is where my problems lie
but then i remember way back

fast slow fast slow
where the fuck was the pause button
where the fuck was the stop
to get off
it all faded away

moving around so much
that even with an apartment
of my own
i would still be homeless
not even in my brittle bones
can i find that place
i ache for
maybe because it does not really exist

they say that is also where the heart is
mine is somewhere in my gut
i am sure of it
i can hear the beats
in between the gurgles of hunger
and the gas pains
why am i always shitting anyway

am i a lez cos i have a wife
and if so who makes the call
are my coworkers disgusted with me
but unable to say it aloud
so they give me side glances and
i just want a chance
to say something

knees crack when i stand
back pulls and i remember
being told as a child
to stand straight
why did i not listen
to all the people who knew better

and why did they not listen to me?