Golden Arches

Golden Arches

empty cans
empty bottles
stale air
the stench of
human perspiration
party’s over
guests lie prostrate
lifeless
beer bellies peek
between buttons
one-hole sock
snores on the couch
our gracious host
is downstairs
fucking his sober girlfriend
cotton mouth
sweating
clammy
cold
molding in crevices
and dark corners
where night
sleeps tonight
I can’t
car keys jingle
get away
just want to escape it
can’t fight it
can’t outrun it
it pulses and shakes
the apartment walls
dirty
sickening
unclean
we are rolling in it
the saints
are masturbating
in the back room
semen stains
on reputations
leering eyes
in smoke-filled
alleyways and
entrances to buildings
we are rolling in it
fucking rolling in it
bits of leaves
and trash
and cigarette butts
clinging
to sweaty bodies
as they grind together
garbage
molding
rotten
filthy
garish flourescent lights
the empires unite
over their trash kingdom



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Too much to explain. If you want to know, ask.