I was younger then

& remember it well

drunk shouting my mouth off

under the streetlights

out on the edge of town

I just wanna get it written down

whatever it is needs sayin’

success is for the half dead

the aesthetes writing on dead flowers

half love in the half light

referencing the deadness gone before

& the judy with me

probably nodded her head

smiled encouragingly

thinking oh he’s drunk again

off & roaring how great he is

but those half prayer

half shouts into the glowering night

got heard

success has not touched me


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