Post a Comment On: Return of the Slacker

I woke up
as a bad-ass madman poet,
stalking downtown,
daring you to cross me,
to try to fuck me over,
because you told me to "break"
and what you don't know is
I never will,
but then I felt
a horrible desperate loneliness,
injected behind my eyes like fire,
melting my neurons together,
seizing my limbs,
and it was a feeling the night couldn't cure
and fucking can only hold at bay
and fucking and fucking and fucking
can only hold at bay.


-Jim DuBois
12/11/08