Cold is your gift
spend countless hours grifting
Sole proprietorship
of these barricades
Close eyes
pretend we have talent
Not swayed
too into too craven
Can’t hold liquor
can’t hold sobriety
Smoke Craven Menthols
not sure why
Get frigid
ride late night
Last call
scratch open white scabs
Walk-in therapist sees you
there you are
Don’t have a problem
in writing
Need a
room in which to brood
An adjacent
room from which to watch
So hard to keep
the stories straight
This poem makes
sure of that