i am fat and tired and sick and mired with
too many cigarettes and too much gin
and the doritos that pretend to be real
fool and my belly is hanging over
this belt with the residue of
the night and the not enough sleep and here,
early, i come to meet you and the edge of
the day and won't the world stop turning?
i am thirty years old and three and
finally i am old enough to know
i am still young and stored in here,
in those toe, and in this one old
roll of fat is that two more hours sleep
will get me where i thought prayer
should and than an hour of answering
the temptation of your,
kissing me up and down is worth
three of meditation,
pushing the body
away with a frown,