whether or not we are alcoholics; we know about the lead pipes, my dude
and our jokes end in punchlines like
“health insurance” It’s not that I don’t fall in love, it’s just that
I’m realistic about how we’re all
digging holes with our fingers and our teeth
Like, who gets married anymore
when we can just fuck each other senseless
and get drunk and cry
in parking garage construction sites
at 3 am
And show up to the Food Not Bombs meeting
hungover and still disenchanted but
doing it anyway
because fighting to feed somebody is still better
than staying in bed We’re old enough now that
our dads have dementia and we’re
preparing to bury our parents
while we suck down American Spirits and wonder
if there will be any room to bury anybody
by the time we are dead
No wonder we all escape to brunch
with the money we should have spent on bills,
saturated with
our own morality We are all 35 and sick
but we can’t call in
to any of our three jobs, we are so lazy
I don’t even know where my bootstra