The Day Before Yesterdays Tomorrow...and Tomorrow’s Yesterday

My forgotten dreams, thoughts and prayers of yesterday
present themselves to me each
morning when I wake:
still drunk, high and naked.

Luckily, no-more,
do I remember they were ever mine.

A million and two torn tears have washed
away the thoughts,

loves,

sex partners and

ripped condoms,
and I'm rather glad that they're gone.

Slow, brisk winds lifts the skirts of the
sluts standing in line to get into the club
as the crack pushing coppers turn their
fat asses the other way:
Favor repayable by blow jobs and donuts.

A cold bath, with the sweet aromas
of stale beer and blood lined urine
staining the air, is all I crave.

With or without an electricity charged
hair dryer to accidentally slip into the tub.

A nosy door man, a thieving parking lot attendant
and a neighbor with Photo-shopped nude pictures
of Dakota Fanning on her wall.

I couldn't dream of
a better spot to call home.

1,006 miles I'd walk for her.
I've loved her since the get go: 20,736,000 seconds ago. Give or take.

Syringes full of arsenic and pills
coated with detoxifying solutions from GNC.

A misplaced vibrator, found in the freezer of
the school lunch room, belongs to the Dean of Students.

A flaming bag of cat feces, left on the door of Reverend Father Phillips.

Three quarter of the varsity softball team,
suspended for group sex with the vice principal
and her secretary. They both got raises.

A pop can filled with flaming weed.

A gym locker dispensing Viagra, HGH, multi vitamins,
Rubbing alcohol and Molotov cocktails.

A dirty sewing needle,
a half quart of black ink stolen from
the sewing and stitching department,
and a dozen 18-year old football players
tattooing their love for Brian Bosworth
on the inside of the left thigh.

I admit it, I pushed it all away that night.

All the times I promised to remember where I came from,

finally,

one had the power to make me forget

Death became it.
And it will become you too.