There really isn't much to do as I am slapped about
with a stinky fishing lure.
Dark circles appear when I need them least...
As opposed to when I need them the most which
is usually around six or seven in the evening
as I open a bottle and think about independent
films. I drink the wine but do not watch the film.
I usually arise in the morning, fucking unorthodox cold
because I have told the sheets 'no more' and kicked
them off of the bed. They obey and commiserate
among the nickels, the semen, the envelopes,
the coffee, the books and the mandolin strings
which adorn my afghan rug.
No, there really isn't much to do.