the old and new year..

>> Saturday, January 1, 2011

its that time of the year
when am tempted to recline
staring into
the vacant spaces of
my room
reviewing the fluttering panorama
of my fucking existence
for the past one year

there’s nothing
that doesn’t choke me with
regret, and there’s nothing which
by any credible effort
I could’ve altered

I could not have escaped
one of those barbs –
the men, booze, filth
the breakdowns, boredom
morning terrors
or leaking faucets

I could not have undone
any single act
or the depressing fact

there’s an implacable continuity
in this chaos –
the infatuations, exhilarations
self-pity, tears, pills -
an orgasmic perfection

there had been an intense game
and I –
merely one of it’s pawns

in the new year
I’d lounge
under the blue moon
with my frigid muse
that highly cultivated,
muscular hypochondriac
with wicked instincts

get drunk on
melancholy and rum
then make love to
the goddamned traffic lights
which are stuck at red

say hello to
excruciating aversions,
weary by leisure,
yet inept of action,
I’d remain
inconsistent in every aspiration
except my incessant love for
grotesque fuck-ups ….


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