the whiskey is on the fridge
the news is on the sidewalk
and the
front page
and on the façade of my morning
Times Square is wall to wall with
biomass and steel frames and
no matter what, these people
they will grow with the holidays
I slide through the whole damn day
soon it will be night again
and there will be garbage
that the curbs will give
eventually to the storm drain
on the corner.
but for now it’s all on me