Born to Break Even
Joseph Veronneau
A neighbor runs into
the street
howling;
it is yet another
Saturday night.
Beer bottle in hand
he feels sacred
for a moment
realizing he has the entire
city block's attention.
He'll belt-out
a threat or
a lie
whichever sounds best
initially
will do him fine,
his flesh covered
in whore's perfume.
The evening (early morning)
will end with his pals
holding his head up
through clenched fists of hair,
keeping him from knocking himself
out again
on the pee and pubic stained
porcelain.
