clocks that work
smiles that are genuine
i lower my head
on the discomfort
around my right temple
it’s not quite doing the trick,
but i drink it anyway
because i’ve told myself
that it will work.
i talked about my father today.
i drank with him two weeks ago.
the discomfort has moved there now.
i’m still drinking the tea.
i still can’t believe my mother is dead.
life is a shit hole.
i don’t have enough money to get out of it yet,
but i dream about the days when i will be out
there will be pictures
i will feel good.
when i’m not away,
i’ll do work that i love.
i will not dread each day as it begins
and in all this loving and seeing
maybe i’ll find a clock that works
and smiles that are genuine
from one person.