baelo

he tasted like cigarettes and dunkin

poster child for the sort of burned out

apathy you can only get when you

get back from vacation needing

another vacation and your agent calls

you before you’ve had a chance to sit

brings up the batman thing and

the economy is shit but you don’t

give a damn money keeps burning

the world keeps turning and february

is a lovely time of year for vegas

your shoulders fall defeated

carrying all the unclaimed baggage

of every intercontinental flight

that ended in heartbreak the subtle

defeat of forgetting the sun setting

and the paparazzo loitering in the

riviera country club parking lot

behind your house takes a telephoto

shot as you light up eyes a tragedy

and all you hear between that octane

burn crisp white paper from red hot

ember down to dirty yellow filter and

the jet plane plateauing on the horizon

is the sweet sombre sounds of the poet

the blastmaster krs-one and scott la rock

the drums you’ve been running from

heaven and hell is on earth

20th century steel band

warm heart cold steel

and the tune that takes you back to 2002



Jay Miller is a copywriter and cocktail connoisseur living in Montreal. Find him on Twitter @sootynemm.

Categories: Poetry

Daily Drunk

Shawn Berman runs The Daily Drunk. You can follow him on Twitter @Sbb_writer.

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