start the day with a ripe round
hangover and move on...
I can't imagine what these bathrooms
were a hundred years ago.
before this restaurant maze.
before Finland.
I also can't imagine loving longer, harder.
this is the whiskey rope.
some people go from nothing to meals.
Wednesday pineapple peacock.
fire exit, seven million times, two lives.
what do you think, Ballerina?
I guess it's time to give up on forever
from behind the bar.
I see a thousand eternities.
and none of them have shadows of memories.
maybe one or two or three or seven million.
digging for years.
...go hug the end of a day with a gun.