the concept of booze

i'll tell you
what you do,

you need to grab
that really long
neck
on that bottle of
booze.

you need to choke
it
like it's only
your last meal.

you need to see the skin
on your fingers
go white.

you may not
remember
any of this
in the morning.

you might think
this bottle
is nothing
but
your mother.

but you'll drink
it,
and you'll think
it's cleaner than
holy water.

but it's not,
and yet
it almost is.

it's only something
attached
to your personal noise,
that makes you think in terms
in your own
validity.

drivethru

it takes exactly
one cigarette
to warm up my car
in
a ten degree cold.

i hear a song,
circa the 1950's,
something about love
of course,
some song
i've never heard before,

but it kept me interested.

and
something about the guy's
voice,
that sounded so sad,
singing
something about
how
this girl
should allow him
to prove his love
to her.

next thing i know,
i'm going through
a mcdonald's drivethru,
thinking about slaughtered cows,
thinking that even slaughtered
cows have love.

but i'm sure,
these cows
never see the stungun coming.

i order the number 5,
two burgers
with a coke.

it's only hunger,
but
i'm trying to think
that something is wrong,

burns

we take
these names
to mean
anything,

and all they usually are,
are just bits
and pieces of smoke
heading for some type
of fan.

you
will never believe
it,
the pronunciation
of a lie
tied
to a burning cigarette
in somebody's
hand.

you will think
of it,
only as a noose,
so that
the burning cherry
will burn
that noose
that you hang from
loose.

and then
the only place
where
you really are,
is at the bottom of an ashtray,
looking up,
imagining shapes
in the smoke.