The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 3 - Page 41


And my buddy Vince was telling me

About this handjob he got from a girl

It was predawn 

And they were both drunk

And in a car or something

And she was trying to jerk him off

But the birds were chirping

And he was distracted

Cause the chirping birds

Made him think of work

And life and what the hell

It all meansa cruel joke

That this girl’s hand

On his halfhearted cock

Seemed the opposite of life

More like the reaper’s scythe

And he couldn’t finish

So the walk home was sad

But routine

Nowadays it seems we’re all

A little severed from the thing

That can make us whole

Can push us to completion

And as I smoked a cigarette

And the moon did its usual

Song and dance, I saw myself

Dragging an empty bathtub

1,000 miles through a desert

Of human handssome hands

Were making fistsanger

Without explanationother hands

Were grabbing my ankles

Cause they were lonely

And wanted me to stay

You can tell a lot about a person

By looking at their severed hands

Cut off from emotion

The future is moving

Backwards in time

Like a door (Cont.)

That gets slammed in your face

All that’s left are the bruises