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today would be a great day
for slow sipping
and long thinking

take the bus downtown
past the glassless
shells of burnt-out
crack hells,
broken sidewalks
littered with bottles,
cigarette packs
and lottery tickets,
spent condoms
stray dog shit
and shell casings

I’d make a grand entrance
at my favorite hole
and park my ass
on a wobbly stool,
spend the whole afternoon
sipping and thinking,
doling out wisecracks
and mischief
and mysterious koans
to every poor fool
within earshot

and forget for a while
that it’s cold and raining,
aching my bones
and stiffening joints,
my liver complaining
it wants to go home,
that I’m nobody
of importance,
just another
daytime drunk
who thinks he’s a poet

 

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