I pay no attention

to my own sufferings--

they are the yowlings

of insignificance

from the delusions of self

that make hells of heavens

and pains of terror that look

to others like grimaces of gas

                                                                         *

now what the hell are you doing

I ask myself

now why the hell are you asking

I reply

I was just showing concern

I said

I pardon you

I answer

                                                                           *

your cunt and your asshole

so sweet on my tongue

I remember

I remember

I remember 

how much I want it again

                                                                             *

I thought I was getting too old for this shit

but like Yeats's late poems

or Dylan's mature masterpieces

I do my time as old goat

hot hot hot fo' da stuff

and how

                                                                               *

some kinda apocalypse approaching

and all I can do is peer through the blinds

and blink at the amazing daily circus

scratching the back of my head with a thumbnail--

what new world--thousands of years from now

people will peer and scratch--they'll likely be us again--

still wondering when the Galactic center

will gobble us up

                                    Content (c) 2008-2009 Philip Milito.