Thursday, May 30, 2013

My Next Door Neighbor’s Brand New Baby Boy

His face reads like a Bukowski poem
written after a weekend bender
with not nearly enough Bromo.
I’m not saying he doesn’t have
a certain puppylike appeal.
It’s just those worried wrinkles
already grooved into the middle
of his two-week old forehead
have me convinced that his future
will consist of way too many
well-placed and perfectly timed
motherfuckers.



Vayavya - Summer 2013

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