Thursday, December 10, 2009




Ennui

Its two p.m. but I’m still in my pajamas;
Stretched out V-neck t-shirt with hoary pit stains,
And navy blue boxers, covered in delicate white paisleys.
I’m checking my email, finishing what’s left of last night’s beer.
No, Dennis hasn’t emailed back yet.
No, I don’t care about your DVD sale, Amazon.com
and for sure I don’t need Viagra, yet.

I decide to eat breakfast;
pineapple, vegetarian sausage
and bitter espresso to take the edge off
the Klonopin I just popped.

Space out on the Food Network. Someone’s cooking something
but, I’m listening to Xiu Xiu.
Jamie whispers from inside my stereo;
It smells like Falouja, a hammock rod…
And I don’t even know what Falouja smells like.

My cell phone rings but I can’t find it,
under dirty clothes,
in coat pockets,
or on my dresser.
I figure, whatever, they’ll leave a message.
or
call back.

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