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.