the poet drinks by moonlight

with the grey ghosts

with red eyes

until he pukes

he spits and cusses

at the birds

he pisses anywhere

he feels to leak

he kicks down doors 

seeking the face of his god

denying his existence

with venomous word

and dead thought

he shoots for the stars

anywhere he can find a vein

he wastes away

in a green haze

you seen god

he’s the flasher

on the corner

the priest who is waiting

the killer stalking prey

the deer shot in the heart

what fool would 

chase his own ass

the donkey wants 

the carrot 

not until he stops

does it swing his way

then a bus hits him

one day the poetic bum

fell down hard

laying there in the grass

a child sang a song

a flower bloomed

dogs barked

and for once 

the poet truly saw

through bloodshot eyes

and a bitchin headache

how much he hated life

how much he hated that song

when would it all stop

this is the best it gets

the way is no way

when you try to leave

you always arrive again

the poet drinks by moonlight 

and always ends up where 

he last felt his heart beat