John Tustin

Nail Holes

I’ve memorized every nail hole in these 
Four rooms.
I’ve eaten my various mélanges of pasta,
Rice, beans, tuna, salad,
And chicken
A thousand times.
I’ve asked for your help
But have not received it.
I don’t believe in magic, in God.
I like Jesus. He said a lot of good things.
He died for jerks like us.
I like Buddha. He’s pretty good.
But I can’t reconcile the fact
That he abandoned his wife and kids.
Kiss me once, as I die
In chains.
Hold my hand
As it trembles uncontrollably
With the palsy of
The past.
The bugs skitter along the walls,
Along my skin.
I am a prisoner of this flesh,
This omnipresent erection,
This pulsation, exsanguinations of
The soul.
The machinations of bone, of blood,
Of joints.
The living are crushed
Between my teeth.
I expand, I recoil.
I sit and stare as music blares.
I puke up nightly regrets 
And sorrows.
From the bed
To the toilet
To the car
To the toilet
To the bed.
If there is a God,
He sits on his throne
And don’t give a fuck.

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