By: Daniel Grigg
Thanks be to you, Derealization, for the night
I swallowed hydrocodone & crawled into bed,
pissed the bed, for the 6:00 AM gas station
& Ms. Nancy who said, “Breakfast?”
to the chocolate pie I put
on the checkout counter.
Austin made me coffee in November
& splashed in some cheap bourbon.
We drank it together on my blue couch
& it was godawful but hot.
Thanks be to you, sweet Tennessee.
You have broken better cherries than I.
Mt. Juliet, new world Jerusalem,
I am in your basement back room & your tornado
with a nasty movie on the TV,
bareback saint getting crucified on the pool table,
this was all happening in the bedroom mirror
& that makes me Jesus Christ.
One Southern summer night
my sweet teamsters carried me back,
carried me just as I had carried them,
at that time being one of the boys.