draft-y piece — notes mostly, no poem yet

m is for mescaline,
is for peace
of mind. o is for opiates on my
hip, just for kicks. d is for drink, drink
all over my lap and belly. s is for smoke,
the color of my own love’s eyes.

l is for my life’s
that’s wrecked. got no job, no true home,
family a cipher, love’s
a young illusion i’m holding close
as a meridian, waiting for it to help me
track home eventually. g is for the gold rush,
the hope of easy street, the fine wares
of gangster and greedyguts. g is for
groaning under the weight of pretending
that i expect something to go well.

in the morning
i’ll wake up
and slip off the hangover long enough
to dump the trash and pretend
there’s nothing left behind, nothing fell out
to stain the floor. c is for cleaning up
the stains that are always on the floor
no matter how c for careful i am.

a is for absolution, absinthe,
amazing the way i can be when left
to my own devices.

and z?

z is the place i end up
when i lose the thread. the last place
i remember to look. the place
as distant from a beginning as i can find.