defeat

listening to Bruckner on the radio

wondering why I’m not half mad

over the latest breakup with my

latest girlfriend

wondering why I’m not driving the streets

drunk

wondering why I’m not in the bedroom

in the dark

in the grievous dark

pondering

ripped by half-thoughts.

I suppose

that at last

like the average man:
I’ve known too many women

and instead of thinking,

I wonder who’s fucking her now?

I think

she’s giving some other poor son of a bitch

much trouble right now.

listening to Bruckner on the radio

seems so peaceful.

too many women have gone through.

I am at last alone

without being alone.

I pick up a Grumbacher paint brush

and clean my fingernails with the hard sharp end.

I notice a wall socket.

look, I’ve won.

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