Lost Time, Erin Lee
coffeecup piss snow Destination Park Street
the flashing Tedeschi’s sign
two corners wide
neon sidewalk puddles that are here until
fucking April, at the earliest
and 30pack Coors lite for $24.99.
the constellations of CVS, Bottled Liquors,
Inbound Pizza guide us home.
the mug in the sink is full of commas
toe nail clippings and sunflower shells
we pile the garbage up until it wilts
three dumpster barrel toothed lumbering alleyways
i could sleep here
if i remembered to shut the goddamn window.
and hunger aches in my belly
like a muddy brick in a toilet pump
rainwater cross-eyed jaundice lovers
trying to save on the utilities bill.
that damned radiator
shivers like snowdrifts in a siberian blizzard
pipes howl like huskies
begging to be put down
melted urban chic doc martens,
laces, tongues untied,
we always fuck with our eyes open.