Blues #1

my tired squid arms
my back arched too hard
like a great bridge
broken in half and sunken into some dead sea
the hyena laughter upstairs
the moans of strange women
through the cracks
in the walls
the refrigerator laughing and laughing
the paintings that i could never bother to hang
the rusted wheels of shopping carts
pressed onward through my migraine
the undaunted lights
shining down on me like an interrogation
the flat tires on my bicycle
the migraine channel
the pity party channel
the death too soon channel
the disney channel
and the moon is beautiful
the moon is god damn beautiful
the moon is so beautiful
please stay beautiful the moon
stay with me
stay here with me
i’ll be good to this one
i’ll make you breakfast every morning
and kiss you to sleep
i’ll love you like i should’ve loved yesterday
and we swing and we sway
and we swing and we sway
as the gods watch on
most likely in pure confusion

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Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

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