Poetry

You Get so Low You Can Taste Your Shoes (Merry Christmas)

I hate every gift anyone has ever gotten me

Dimestore Casanova Xmas Poem from Citizen Brooklyn on Vimeo.

What an issue the magazine of truth has sent us, likened to machete on family pet throat.

The snow is falling on the ground… I am lying on the corner of Maspeth Ave. and

Woodpoint Road,

Wondering what door all my wisdoms and intermediate friendships sauntered out of.
I hate every gift anyone has ever gotten me
Except your unwavering hate in the face of my aptitude as a man.
Santa Claus? Yeah, I know.

A kid I don’t like is yanking at my pant leg ‘til skin bleeds,

and a migraine is conjured up in a salutation to karma and juju of evil twitching crust punk demonoids who I refused to give my last dollar to.

Was that seltzer water worth all this trouble?
Just turning thirty seems like an
impossible task when they make
whiskey and regret so cheap and plentiful.

I sit in my reflection

and hope for a new mirror in a new place.

I’m
sure my wife will die first and leave me in squalor.

Just
another
sucker
in
a red
suit,

Just
another
guy
who pays
far
too
much
for
milk
and
cookies.

 

Add your comment