The alarm rang

near my head like a miracle.

Waking as every day

untreated.

Wanting to touch sleepy lips

and peak for skanky panties.

(later)

A converse of distraction

played out in separate languages.

Those lines deep get covered over

in wanton neglect and fading recall.

Trance images out the window, running

with putrid crustacean in tow.

(even later)

None  barrier of dignity and bullshit

travel pass in hand. Saved,

bound, free of mind- soaked in a bicoastal cocktail.

The fruit of a scarcely fabricated perspective-

the racing tension as if a word

the world would never know.

A taste triggered familiar. The craving,

optimism inhaled like glue from a bag

Until desire unborn.

Did we learn this at the movies,

in the books,

from the anxiety of those before us.

 -jesse bercowetz

 

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A queen type she entered

sleepy eyed, lip crust,

matted hair with a swagger.

Ignored hierarchical the several rows.

 A captive audience.

Wrapped in a yellow plastic robe.

 Institutional stick to your skin-

shoulder pads and stethoscope. More

guarded accoutrements in a clear plastic bag.

Urine stench and attitude. Hating

the pedophile, the father, confused for the son.

The women, the man –

she threatened with a late night drunken bomb scenario.

And then to the guard:

I don’t even mind kickin your ass or any ones ass.

Fuck you Mr. no ass.

You gotta have ass to kick ass.

You keep it over there I’m not tryin to catch nuthin in the air.

Have a seat she said-

On her way out and to the store.

 - jesse bercowetz