999 Z101

a sink
a pouch of tobacco
an unmade bed
the day your sister
was to be wed

her husband
on the stairwell
out on another sin
pills and
cheap gin

you go to the reception
with a rolled cigarette
hanging out of your mouth
whiskey on your breath
say things have gone south

slant rhymes
old poetry
new poetry
nothing left to give

fingers glisten
and you hold it high
my honeymoon!
oh
it’s all in scarlet

I’m half asleep in her bed
my hairline is receding
and my body aches

I wake up at 10 and pour a drink

walk on water

I have a wooden tower
and your sister’s wedding
will be full of sailors
and men on the boat
of holy tradition