i was thinking

so, i was thinking...

it might be nice to write about something 

other than:

drinking.

being poor.

anxiety.

girls.

guilt.

lovers.

love.

dogs.

sex.

insomnia.

rain.

maybe i should write about flowers?

or the dead skin 

that seems to be accumulating 

on my typewriter keys?

it was while i was thinking 

about this change in attitude

this rut i'm stuck in

this bukowski rip-off bullshit-

that i realized what i was doing:

digging through filthy couch cushions

in search of change

to buy a beer

that i cannot afford

i want this beer

because i have anxiety

from a sleepless night

from drinking too much red 

12 hours prior

that somebody else paid for

while i sat at the bar

and looked at girls

who i would like to touch

i want to know what their hair smells like 

the next morning

right now

which makes me feel guilty

because my lover

who i love

is in costa rica

and

i'm watching her dog while she is away

his name is bubba

he is a pekingese that snores like thunder

he has a bad back

heart disease

ulcers of the eye

bad breath

missing teeth

a smile worth all the gold in southern australia

and a soul so mighty god shits his britches 

at the very thought 

of a being so 

HOLY

i love him.

well,

the cactus in my window is flowering today

surely a sign of spring

maybe the clouds and rain will pass

and maybe i'll get stoned