Hitting Home
The wine is hitting home
and it’s a good place to be
right now
at home with a couple of
bottles of diablo’s
chardonnay and the poems
offering themselves up
like cheap whores or
fallen angels taunting
and teasing like a 1950’s
censored Elvis:
the wine is hitting home
as millions of strangers
around me starve and
fall victim to oppression
and injustice and abuse,
as animals are hunted
and forests burned and
slashed, oceans poisoned:
it’s a good place to be
as the wine hits home,
numbed and fucking
useless against the
relentless mad swirl
of the world,
just for a while
as the wine hits home,
it’s a good
place to be.
