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This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue of cc&d (v236) (the September 2012 Issue) You can also order this 5.5" x 8.5" issue as an ISSN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book Cheap Thrills cc&d 2012 collection book		get the 228 page Sept. - Dec. 2012 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

The Music Shades The Sun

Robert D. Lyons

Somebody’s dead symphony
Leaks from the stereo,
And Taylor found me lying on the tiles
Of the bathroom floor,
Ripped,
Slashed,
Beaten,
Gutted,
Opiate powder still on the end of my nose,
My head spinning
With a hangover spike
Pierced through the center of my skull,
Just brittle bone,
No meat,
Paper skin,
And yellow enamel.
Wine and rum bottles rooted across our landscape
Like dying trees.
A note from our mothers on the fridge,
A skillet melted into the burner,
A smoke alarm torn off
And hanging by a wire from the ceiling,
A pink laced thong on the floor,
Three condoms bathing in a coffee cup,
Jade coming out of the closet half naked
And sneaking out the door,
The sink reeking of moldy dishes
And stale creamy water,
The truck out of gas,
The rent a week late,
The noon ladies of the neighborhood
Knocking on the door with matching purple hats
To express their judgment,
The fratboy’s stolen beer in our bellies,
And blood mysteriously on the floor.
Two cockroaches clenched each other,
Beside my ear,
And fucked.
Taylor rubs his fingers through my tangled hair
And whispers,
“Good Morning.”

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