tonight out in the
somewhere
the girsl are playing again
the game we invented
for them
and if i feel better
later on i might toss
my ego onto the table
for luck
or maybe i’ll just sit here
adorned with
my shorts and the
ease of apathy
but
i will not fail to fall
under the wheels
of
my life
i cannot wrestle
the angel to the mat
for a 3 count
or explain the permanance
of moments murdered
by a stranger
known as youth
only the photo
of myself and that girl
with a tiger stalking her hair
seems sensible
in the evening of continued
future uncertainty
two women on my bed
luck
tucked inside the waist band
this is the way it
will end and
i hope nobody minds