Sunday drinken

“DMV”

With half a fat
I read Henry Miller
Next to a pregnant woman
And a black fella
Covered with lice.

I keep my head down and read.

- Im afraid some one
is going to stab me in the back
and i will feel the most amazing pain.

I can see it all happening in my head.

On the floor,
Bleeding to death.
My ticket number
next to my hand.

My jeans poked out,
Tented,
in a semi boner.

And the bird behind the counter saying

“ticket 179?”

”ticket 179?”

Over and over

“ticket 179?”