1599C

he watched me while I ate

fried jambalaya on a stick

and I thought goddamn

I’m sexy

bloated from beer and tacos

my patchy beard smeared and

discolored by mustard

and his friends look like

they work for Facebook

and they smile toothy white grins when he leaves for the bathroom

little did he know

I don’t need anybody

I had already tripped

on my pants earlier that day

a little loopy and drunk

still coming down from

an hour of jerking it to

1930s smut

I’m a sucker for dust bowl bush

after all

it was Ezra Pound who said

“More poems need references

to tragedies and pubic hair.”