the roadkill don’t have fur, they aren’t even dead yet
early sunday morning and the streets are littered with corpses
pulses intact, mouths askew
unnatural drool-like vomit in puddles under snoring faces
men with white shirts & straw farmer hats tumbled aside
menial labor temporarily forgotten
they litter the curbs & streets
cars & horses swerve to miss these alcoholic speed bumps
this happens every weekend in gracias, honduras
aptly named, thank you for such imagery
a reminder of how beer & guaro can waste a life
leave it limp on concrete
Tag: alcoholism
I Am A Beer
hold me in a bottle
wrap your fingers around
my label, place me
carefully on a pool table
i help with conversation
will make you a man
give you something to do
wanna grab one of me
after work? sure thing
i invented liquid courage
beer muscles, and who
said you can’t win
with me you will punch
all night, or say hello to
him or her, or that person
sitting over there, don’t
stare too long, drink me
like you mean it
with time, you will
love me, but i’ll
never love you back
Daniel W. Polk 