gutter butter
I can’t help but imagine us
twenty years from now
shuffling broken heels
down that same crusted block.
We’ll bite nicotine lips mumbling
to the drunken frat boys and tight
hipped girls,
“There is no love without charity…”
And we know this already.
We know it with our own
hip bones rising to break skin,
our gutter-butter gold and promise-
Sneering bottles of pills.
twenty years from now
shuffling broken heels
down that same crusted block.
We’ll bite nicotine lips mumbling
to the drunken frat boys and tight
hipped girls,
“There is no love without charity…”
And we know this already.
We know it with our own
hip bones rising to break skin,
our gutter-butter gold and promise-
Sneering bottles of pills.