Tuesday, November 24, 2009


glory days
he was the kind of drunk
that never got sick
in the nights
but always when he woke up
in the mornings
while I was lying on his couch
my belongings crumpled in a nearby corner
I always came back into the world
to the sound of him throwing up
tremendous heaves
like he was screaming death
at the toilet bowl.
then his footsteps
pounding across his floor
back to bed.
I remained on the couch
watching the snowflakes
dive down and sting the earth
while I mentally planned out
another pathetic day.
this was my life as a dog walker
in January 2009:
living on a weak broth
of hope and pity
and doing just fine

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