the lush somethings

seth h. monroe



pushy rain falls on a weekday morning road

drops descend rapidly in succession just outside of a cracked window

the drapes conceal only so much light

certain rays force themselves through like a belligerent drunkard in a busy pub

past decisions stick to fingertips like black resin while new ones feel no guilt

not so faintly in the background this adamant rain plummets

so many ways to get high and only a handful of ways to fall

roller coaster precipitation makes and breaks every cliche

mornings expose their nasty, hateful little faces to the slumbering purveyors of toil

intravenous somnambulation facilitates doubled productivity

a missing piece of wall

an absent seal in a doorway

an inviting crack in a window pane allows the outsider to witness a meal being prepared

elementary frustration is being served or breakfast

an exit is chosen off in the distance

a gratuity is paid to an unwed mother

scornful divorcees dissolve sour sugar cubes in lukewarm liquids

forced into pleasantries and reduced to routine

shooting neck pains become sheer ecstasy... be greeted by no one is to arrive joyously and patiently await departure

to awaken from sleep is to receive the shittiest consolation prize on a terrible game show