a salute to new years past

A Salute to New Years Past

 

The work
knocks it
out of
you the
zero weather
knocks it
out of
you poseurs
of greatness
knock it
out of
you age might
play a
small part in
knocking it
out of you
you lie
down at
2 p.m. on
New Year’s
Eve &
when you
open your
eyes again you
think you’ve
slept the
old year
away but
no it’s
4:20 in
the afternoon
& you’re
on your
feet &
into the
van
catch a
double mocha
on the
run &
make the
hill with
almost no
light left in
the sky–
thank God
for the
Winter Solstice
that’s been
kicked a
week into the
past now.

 

On the
way out
the door
you snatch
a letter
from an
ex-wife you
open it
hastily
light a
cigarette
take a
swig from
your mocha
the light is
almost gone
the motor’s
running with
the heat on
in the
letter is a
clipping
“Publishers lose
grip on
gate” the
heading reads
salt in
the wound
on a
cold winter’s
day something
that’s not
exactly news
to a
writer who
came into
his own a
few decades
too late.

 

The sky
is falling!

The light
is failing!

I’m devoid of
resolutions!

I pick up
John Henry’s
hammer &
drive a
spike thru
the heart
of an
inhospitable
future.

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