Literature
Spunion Gamble
October:
a shitstorm sober,
an overdose of
overdoses, disorder,
a postcard from
nowhere you want to be.
Believe me, the scenery
sucks, syringes sticking
up from heaps of ugly
dead leaves
twenty-somethings lining
sidewalks by the morgue
door, babies trading bodies for itty
bitty bottles of more
snow falling on wasted war-
torn faces glazes wide unblinking
eyes, white light erases
places, ages, life
flies away to where
I haven't got a clue but
I can't solve the problems
of insolvency by dissolving
decency- can you?