some new poems for the new year about old shit.
“New Year’s Sex”
Cue for me the music
As that gaudy ball descends
From its perch atop the park
And hold on to me.
Hold me like a butcher holds a knife.
Wield me like a lumberjack’s axe.
Make of me the tool without which you’d be nothing.
And cue for me the music
As that ball reaches its end
Make it a slow song and take the lead.
Use me.
Use me like the rhythm to find your groove.
Dance to me as if I were the beat
And sing to me a sweeter song
Than any we could ever catch a fuck to.
Cue for me the music
At the final stroke of midnight
For the days that lie ahead
And hold onto me.
Hold me like a hangman holds a noose
And drop me like the man condemned I am.
Next year I’ll toast to you
The one I loved the most.
Cue for me the music
As that gaudy ball descends
From its perch atop the park
And hold on to me.
Hold me like a butcher holds a knife.
Wield me like a lumberjack’s axe.
Make of me the tool without which you’d be nothing.
And cue for me the music
As that ball reaches its end
Make it a slow song and take the lead.
Use me.
Use me like the rhythm to find your groove.
Dance to me as if I were the beat
And sing to me a sweeter song
Than any we could ever catch a fuck to.
Cue for me the music
At the final stroke of midnight
For the days that lie ahead
And hold onto me.
Hold me like a hangman holds a noose
And drop me like the man condemned I am.
Next year I’ll toast to you
The one I loved the most.