Ron Androla

xanax halfway off a chair


i don't know

four, five,

six, plus five,

six, seven cans

of beer, one

chicken taco,

dust of leaf

in a silver bowl

fired into old

lungs. to find

tranquility

is human

goal. we momentarily

succeed

sometimes,

rarely,

then shit

appears on our fingers

wiping our faces

of age-wrinkles.


we're 75 years old

& kids are perverse clones.

life is one big

clown of activity.

clown of madness &

paradox. rage.

smile of rage.

a man shits in a toilet.

a woman pisses in a toilet.

we buy window

cleaner the color of blood.


it IS blood.



xanax in a chair


i sit here

slowly

i sit here

back-spacing typing mistakes galore

for what? oh,

jellygun's birthday.

a poem i'm writing.


this poem.


these ridiculous fingers.


this ridiculed mind.


mine.


self-defacing voice of me

saying i'm a

slut.


i'm a poetry slut.


there are dishes to wash.

garbage to take down

to the dumpster.


tomorrow ann takes her daughter

back to virginia.


i'm staying home

to clean the apartment

up. i have xanax.


i will very calmly

clean.


what? it's yr birthday?


wet slop shiver

from dark womb depths


into here,

now.


buncha packed

molecules in the form

of a man.


32 years of molecules!



happy birthday, nicholas


amerika is a fucked up

land. so is england.

so what.

nothing, nobody,


is free.

freedom is illusion.


we are bound

within prisons


of language

& response.


so what.

most lovers


are liars

& emotional lunatics.


most men

are utterly alone,


two eyes

in the world


of 12 billion

eyes. so the


holy

fuck what.


we dream.

we hallucinate.


we love.

we hate.


so

what.


most of the

human race


is

dead


under

our feet.


yet the molecule of air

that swirled


thru the nostril

of bukowski


is the same

molecule of air


you just

burp.


existence

has nothing to do


with making

sense,


with logic

or purpose.


fuck it.

drink up!


it's

yr birthday!



it's my birthday & i'll laugh if i wanta


black guinness draft cans,

a 4-pack gift from ann.


cait's last sock:

pre-dawn prelapsarian enlightenment.


benzo,

maybe an ambien,


it'll be

dreamland on my birthday,


appropriately

enough.   48 years is a long life,


it

is.


especially

for a poet


with bad

heart genes.


cancer

genes.


insanity

genes.


diabetes

genes.


anxiety

genes.


oh shut the hell

up androla:


pouring can

two...



i'll burp if i wanta


it is almost

time for can #3.


i wrote a little

about can #2


on the thunder

sandwich board.


i'm swaying

in my chair --


black dawn,

roar of trucks across


west grandview

boulevard,


& i'm

drunk, & posting


fucking

poems for all the goddamn


asshole world

to see


on my 48th

birthday.


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