no exit

all you patio-drinkers
wailing your lonely misery,
drinking the night to keep away
from the sun.
we're all faceless,
may as well be formless.
may as well be papier mache.
the dumb luck of the
clock ticking is all
we've ever known.
the certainty of the
Big Bang
is the knowing unknown.
the sad-bellied act,
the cute cut
of the rusty razor,
the exploding sunflowers
at the back of the house:

this rummage-sale hope,
a drink.
beer-bellied patriotism,
a drink.
the muse of white death,
a drink.
all you waking-lost-
in-day-fire drinkers
rubbing dried spit
from your chins,
graceless broken whisperings
of a glass doom,
may as well say hello,
may as well know you,
may as well worm
back to sleep and dry out.
hello!

a drink!