Matthew Bass
Drunk On A Park Bench
I will sit here.
Drink another beer
smoke another cigarette,
alone. And contemplate
nothing.
Meanwhile,
Drunk Punk Mike stands on his corner
with his white witch wife
talking about 1977
when
people were alive.
Larribe the hippie
drinks mint tea in the Jewish Quarter of Tangier
talking about Katherine Hepburn and The Rolling Stones.
The whore in Singapore I got drunk with
who admonished me for feeling so so sorry for myself
still sits there with her teenage face
talking of beautiful things.
and
I will become this bench
punctured with splinter wounds,
watch man descend into chaos
hoping for the rise of woman
with a Teak smile.
Then decompose like stagnant driftwood.
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