In the immortal words of an unborn bullshitter,

I present to you:

The broken hammer handle.

 

In the drunken prose of a friendly stranger,

I pour on you:

Contents of an empty glass.

 

In the stuttering tattoo of a brain-dead philosopher,

I attempt to explain to you:

Once everything was nothing,

And now,

Nothing-

Is everything.

 

Bent,

Then straightened arms,

Pulling their way up.

Silver aluminum rungs,

Pushing their way down.

Summer sunburns growing,

                                            escaping.

 

A facade of yellow teeth,

Wind-struck on their behind.

A plastic pint,

A half warm beer,

Holding the last few circles of air,

To remain appealing.

 

An impression,

Rectangular,

Leaving behind the dense fur of cardboard.

Leaving behind a thin sheen,

Coating the calculated genetic hilltops of exposed muscle.

The shivers of mortal skin,

Shaking,

Creaking

Releasing,

Finding a nowhere shaped hole.

 

'Let them bleed and heal'

From an unkempt maw.

'It aint lumber, but it aint free'

From a more or less reformed criminal.

Breaking a hammer without a solid swing,

Takes a particular,

Lacking.

 

'Poor guy, he doesn't know his whiskey'

Sliding out of a proud child's mouth.

'Do you know where you are?'

Sing two lips, cracked and tanned by an age we couldn't remember.

White, clean skin,

Singing from a stool,

That could hold its tongue.

Bright blue eyes,

Wet round sockets,

An open and dangerous cunt,

Hovering,

And whispering nothing into a read pleather seat.

 

'Is t working? Is this real?'

From an angry,

love addict.

'Its real, its starting. Where am I standing?,'

'Where was I standing?'

From a happy,

Drug addict.

A mirror,

Holding the Mule self of a skinny,

Wanna-be,

Grown up.

A rented bed,

Cradling the Bi-Oceanic life organ

Of a hesitant,

Pensive,

And vicious

Huntress.

 

Swinging the steel action of an unchanging tool,

Collecting the sheets of a compromised,

And desperate,

World.

 

Drinking the corner out of hand-warmed plastic,

Gathering ounces of manufactured courage,

And thirsty for less,

More.

 

Squeezing a sphere of soil-bourne sugar,

Exploring the pillars of liquid someones god dreamed up,

And knowing their smell,

Taste.

 

Toil and the sweat cash,

It expels.

 

Recklessness and the dumb pride,

It offers.

 

Mindful mindlessness,

and the present nothingness it remembers to forget.

 

Hammers swing.

 

Glasses empty.

 

Tabs dissolve.

 

Earn.

 

Spend.

 

Forget.

 

Q

W

E