Sunday drunk

“Charles, my best friend.”

I strip into nothing,
Put on blade runner
And turn up the
Volume so I can hear it
Out side.

I sit on the porch with
My dick hanging between
My legs and cry in the
Dark like a mad man.

I get hungry however
And I walk to the kitchen
Past my cat that
Is sleeping on the couch.

I drop my drink to the floor
And get right in his furry
Little face and scream at
Him

FUCK YOU CAT, YOU FUCKING CAT CUNT, FUCK YOU!

He hardly stirs and
In the morning
I cant look at him in the
Eyes with embarrassment

he remains indifferent.

We have never had a fight
Like this before.

Smug little bastard.

I try and explain
to him that

Im trying to be
an artist

But he just quietly mills
Around the back yard
Looking in tin buckets
And playing with butterfly's
And shit.

He is always mocking me
With that high tailed walk
And the way he
Can sleep all day
With out having
To do shit
Or pay any bills.

I swear to god
If you wake up one day
With a cats head in your
Garbage bin

You know…

All im saying
Is don’t come looking for me,
That little prick
Is the only real friend
I ever had.