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Writer's pictureAdam Majdecki-Janicki

Extracts from a Drunkard's Twilight

My mouth, open

breath stinks of the whole

ugly day

that day stinks of

man's whole history

stinking of

chance, unnecessary births

to the bog clouds

of exhaustion, warehouse

blitz & humorous

obituaries

once the music stops

playing

Remnants of matches

stick out like crosses

from my pockets

twirling the highway roaming...

cars - the birds of the handicapped crescent

feeding sky w/ remnants

of someone else's

dream

making that someone happy

bookstoring out of the rust

in my burger

toothpicking ash from the heart

Ugly the word on the block

death in the schoolyard, uninvited

teacher; kids the glorious leaders

of rebellion, now grown up & married

to sex-shop telecoms

transmitting orgasms like candles

sometimes transmit

the bareness; nakedness of priests

tied to perfumed chairs

of lottery; honesty of night,

drawing straws; the lucky ones

are on fire

drink that hard, I dare you

live that quick, you're doubled

My fist, open

used to contain the plot

tables of planes & footprints, left

cautiously stabbing the sky

my only friend I witness, my only

silver girl; companion through the summer

downer, drag corridor, base cake growing

in the oven, someone made dinner

for drunkards, someone took care of my

crosses; & ugliness pales

in the small unhealthy visage

of a sailor

who first brought dope to town.

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