listening to a sunset

i should’ve known i would end up
like this. some days i wished i was
somewhere else, somebody else,
prettier so when you jacked off you
would think about my ass. maybe
a second look my way when i’m
walking down liberty avenue. now
i sit here with a dog in my lap and a
crow on my shoulder. my life is spent
waiting on a woodchuck to come out
of the woodpile to steal apples i leave
for a mama bear. i will catch charlie
one of these days. i’m still wearing
the “bob dylan in concert with
special quest merle haggard” t-shirt i
bought in 05. i don’t remember
haggard but i’m sure he was good. is
dylan ever not good? my knees don’t
bend like they used to, my ears only
hear half of what they use to. 40
years of smoking has left me a little
short of breath. sometimes i need a
little more fluffing. about 40% of men
over 40 in the united states know
what i’m talking about. i learned to
read lips when you call me your
“little dirty whore.” i liked that the
first time i heard it forty-five years
ago. i got secrets. i know when things
are good and when things aren’t
right. how simple can i be? i
appreciate the black and white
of winter, lemonade and weed. i
like bukowski and leonard cohen.
so many years i searched outside
my heart. it just left me bitter.
some things never change.

One thought on “listening to a sunset”

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