November 16, 2009

BIKE GANGS THAT DIDN'T CRASH









I kicked in their faces and tripped over my own words stumbling forth from that obscene hole I call my mouth. They poured out of me in one long movement, my tongue lifeless as a beached whale, carrying the scent of malt liquor and whatever else was mixed in that Ocean. I'm done now though. Winter is approaching and I need to keep warm, wrapped in a warm whiskey blanket, or maybe just within the coffin of my bedroom.
Some mornings I wake thinking I've exhausted this city. Or maybe it's just exhausted me. Chewed me up in one giant gulp. I'm divided in a million pieces within its bowels. If the CN Tower could take a shit I wonder which end I might pour from.

2 comments:

amanda said...

I love that picture of you and faye!

Tony Esposito said...

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