Unfashionable Jeans

Give me your biggest card,
your biggest, sweetest eyes,
your soft hey in passing
your . . .

Anything

But this, this has got to go.
Nothing like nothing to make you dig a hole.
Nothing like the nothing to make you
see the things that are not there.

There’s nothing like the abyssal planes
of mundane, of another cup of coffee
of forgetting your own birth right

To Live
To Breathe
To Give in

To nothing that don’t suit your fancy
your fancy please

getting down on one knee
nothing like that last shot
of whiskey

Here’s one for you and your last soul.

Here’s one for the folks prying metal ships apart
and the watery lakes
where one grain is harvested at a time.

Here’s one for the crowd
and the stylized bars in dreams:
there we wear boots and unfashionable jeans.