get some

 i remember misery

 drunk in back alleys
 in rooms
 with pretty
 overpriced whores
 head pounding
 whores,too
 it was as numb
 as i ever got
 bad times
 those days
 of petty crimes,of
 black monk time
 nothing like a whore
 with a good record collection

i remember not giving two fucks
enough to pull the trigger
and do a jackson pollock
on them walls
them off white whore walls
nothing got a rise out of me
whatever was occuring
i just bit her ass
and rolled over
to another night
of backalley dreams
sweaty tits covered in cocaine sweat
and the stink of broken promises

i would awake at noon
and she cooked me breakfast
pull down the shades i shouted
are you bloody crazy?

i went to take a piss
as she burned the toast
and sang;'moon river'
as only one that has crawled
on floors 
on all fours
could
beautiful losers
always wear too much make up
that cheap shit,not even Mac

i ate my breakfast
washed it down with
warm diet coke
she sat on my lap
i put two fingers up her cunt
might have been three
she started moaning
making dolphine sounds

i closed my eyes
and thought of being 11
eating kit kat bars
and watching flipper.


-Alfred Huete
01 Febuary 2011