No Time For Talking

Cheap vodka slosh and greedy hands
A glass ship bottle with a label
In a language I can’t read.

My feet step light over questionable
Spills and slips of the tongue in cheek
And slits in her skirt.

An alpha bassline
Vibrating all of those loud cloudings
Right out of my head through one ear and splat

It liquid springs out of the cup jostled by an elbow
A new stickiness on the floor poor host
But dancing and the heavy blanket on my head

They make a nice pair for forgetting.
And she’s whispering to me
That this won’t make me feel better

But what I want is for him to see me
Him-anyone
A deer standing staring at the barrel of his gun, loaded.

Sneakers twisting and eyes flashing to
Anyone who wants to make friends or
Make a mess of me

I’m here and don’t you know me?
Doesn’t anyone here know me?

Artwork by Hope Gangloff