Listen, when looking into living out
Of a suitcase for a few months, this
Slinky Norwegian remix circa 2003
Dug for deep in the local Quonset hut
Will help determine how to stay in
A new western city without ruins.
But Chthonius, aren’t your hopes
By now dashed-slash-drifted towards
Some savage messiah, or is it just
That ice-cream truck tune unheard
Since early visits to the west side?
What, some bastard seagull stole
An appelflap right out your hand?
Yet again, counter most afflictions
With a cigarette bummed and shared
Or salt water from diverse sources.
You’re too old to worry about mixed
Emotions, the curse, the drought,
The block, the shot, the parade,
Vague messages, always looking in
On wide windows to see big nudes
Laughing behind an average of two
Vases, always missing something.