Oh, oh, oh, I am weary
of affectation and postulation and the prostitution
of smiling when I don’t want to.
Even whiskey doesn’t help it.
And good lord god am I tired
of cynicism and chimaerism and the copper penny taste
of aesthetic discontent.
Come and rest your bones awhile?
Shuck your Levi’s and that lodestone you carry around your neck-
it gathers more weight every year.
Honestly, honey, I am exhausted
of avarice and emptiness and the necessity of
pushing when it comes to shove.
Won’t you let me
put my head on your chest and
we’ll listen to our atoms knock and vibrate
against the silence
together?
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