Drunken Sailor Cowboy Rant by Mike Zone

during a season in hell
I tanked the body electric
without a single touch
as the flesh mounds floundered
muddle brained in romantic haze
saw spastic deviations right in line
what was thought blind compulsion in loneliness
no one wants to go home with the dead
or rather those who don’t quite belong
knowing what’s really gone down
when what was torn asunder was not so tender
the value lessness of silk screen projection splendor
tell me,
was the night you left with him
just as memorable?
leaving me on the stool alone
as we gazed across the bar with haunted eyes
interlocked
exchanging never to be kisses?

Mike Zone is the author of A Farewell to Big Ideas, Void Beneath the Skin, Better than the Movie: 4 Screenplays and Fellow Passengers: Public Transit Poetry, Meditations and Musings. A contributing poet to Mad Swirl and contributing writer to the graphic novel series American Anti-hero by Alien Buddha Press. His poetry and stories have appeared in: Horror Sleaze Trash, The Daily Dope Fiend, Outlaw Poetry, The Rye Whiskey Review, Synchronized Chaos and Triadæ Magazine.