2011
05.12

no wife
or girlfriend
to scapegoat
or red herring

no friends
or acquaintances
to play the
straw man

not even
a fuck buddy
to hasten the
hands of the clock
through the banal fog
of thick black.

you’re the
proximate cause
of this rudderless
foundering ship:

stare into
the mirror a bit

study the physiognomy

go ahead

open another bottle

jump some rope

walk your hand
up the wall
like a spider:

become
thoroughly acquainted
with this tiny village
in the barrel of
a rusted out gun.



© Justin Hyde, 2011