Dirge

alone and drunk on a chesterfield
in a new brunswick apartment.
just me and the dog,
and i think he hates me too,
watching some god-awful movie on bukowski,
that drunken asshole.

the laugh of the cigarette butt tickles
my nostrils as i build ashtray monuments
soaring towards the water-damaged baldachin
only to be snubbed
by the bitterness of gut-rot whiskey.

i force the pure-bred mongrel
into an an awkward embrace,
but then he runs away
and shits on the other available upholstery,
i’m certain he’s an asshole too.

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