I Keep My Coat On The Floor Tonight Because She’s Gone

I Keep My Coat On The Floor Tonight Because She’s Gone

the population of yesterday is waging war against the past-

urized dignity of my dick staring out the window at the rain

during a long night of mentally painful screen shots and suffering

if her vagina is a coat rack then her boyfriend’s penis

is a tiny jacket

but it’s not raining where her boyfriend’s tiny jacket lives

right now like it’s raining where my dick lives

where my dick lives: it’s pouring

my right hand looks older than my left hand

and my left hand looks older than the plot to Olympus Has Fallen

and the fact that it’s raining almost everywhere always

is almost the only goddamn thing tying this poem together

I’m almost consistently amazed by people who can sleep because I can’t sleep

I keep my coat on the floor tonight, because she’s gone