a swollen liver doesn’t make you romantic

ah
right on cue
spotlight focused
the stage curtain rising
on with the show
this is it

never fear
you’ll be fine
poor cowboy
holster full of lame ass excuses
consummate liar in a perpetual hospital gown

you will find another victim, man-child
if you grow the fuck up
put the bottle down
give up the trembling lip pity-me act
and get a job

i can’t sit idle saying nothing anymore
as you mine facebook for sympathy

how i hate you for using poetry
as a con job

this is what happens
when you’ve already screwed or robbed everybody in your one-horse town

the sum of your gigolo life
as it is now
after the tables have turned
when mommy and daddy
can’t afford to pay your way anymore

a swollen liver doesn’t make you romantic
and you’re no god damned kerouac
may i remind you this has all been your choice

you’re lucky no one has phoned the constabulary
and turned you in
after you stole pills from a neighbor dying of AIDS
you sick shit

so before you slip your hand into another
unsuspecting wallet
medicine cabinet
life
or heart
remember this desperate
trainspotting routine
has gotten boring
and we’ve heard it all before