kick with me at the rusted sleet in the corner of the sleeping giants eye.
make a raft out of hallow dreams and wishes that died from green house gases before they left sight of our planet.
maybe our aim was off- cast upon former super nova black holes. posing for stars like centerfolds.
make the raft and push it off in the sea of the current of the moment.
drown if you must.
pause if you can.
if you lost the remote- flip over the cushions- check your pockets .find a pocket watch (how fitting) floating around like the moon
to the left of your zippo pocket.
it's four hours until closing time
wear your shot glass like a monocle
tint neon signs that back drop fogged up windows.
it's february out there and everywhere.
and the air is dry.
falling snow claims hydration for your pores
and the days above freezing just melt the frozen tears that felt comfortable sleeping in the gutter
step outside with me and tobacco stain the rocky mountians of your teeth.
laughing like a giant in her sleep.
cussing like a sailor on shore leave
praying like a soldier in a fox hole.
petting dog tags like rosarys.
strangers we thought wanted to shake our hands were only reaching for their wallets.
"we're not the bouncers, man."
everybody's got something to prove.
spit the nicotine out of my mouth
i told myself i was going to quit but the holidays get me everytime.
