Wednesday, November 18, 2009


Lips like a Cheshire cat’s
I gawked
while you ugly-fucked your guitar
which was always my favorite.

Through a nearsighted lens
we were envied.
We were sharing a beer.
We were laughing together.
And then the show would end.

With your guitar packed up,
our fingers locked in
you pulled me close, like a faulty zipper
just to carefully slide us apart.