Most of my relationships
last as long as a drag
on a cigarette. This time
I gave up on Christ
then Buddha but now
pray to Elvis since
he died for our songs.
And when a friend said
I have a big appetite
I told him he should see
how cancer eats.
In the bakery across
the street there are loaves
of a bread lying in a pile
in the window like baseball
bats. Today I bought one
then headed to the park
to hit a few balls out
or get into a game.
By the time I got there
I had eaten most
of the loaf, until it fit
in my hand like a club.
So I took it home to make
a sandwich, knowing
this way I’ll never get
to first base.
The truth is I like to travel.
Last month I met a woman
with a small birth mark
on her thigh that’s shaped
like France. How easy it is
to go there now, if only
to touch Paris with my tongue.
drunken library 