Poetry

A drunken old women vomits her way up the street only to find her grandson armed with a pen to document and scar him.

At last you come

Tattered in last nights thoughtless ideas

Aged in a time where promiscuity is valued

Smelling of cheap bottled cologne

I can see by your blank stare only probability got you here

Do be patient

The poison will filter out

The delusion will come into focus

Your life will snap into place

A lit cigarette tells the tail of centuries past when responsibility held onto you

Oh grandma.

A soap bubble pops out of her mouth, "If you knew what was good for you"…… but trails off into broken Yiddish.