Where we have been is drinking.
Drinking the dregs dredging the rivers revering the dead
mouthing the words to live by
heartening wounds.
We are in our place, where we were put and we are drinking.

We have been running our mouths at a place of drink.
Off with his head and shoulders older than most
throwing up onto the television, his head raised, his face like a raisin
such small things in his pockets
pots calling kettles
nettles in his hair
having a beached whale of a time
crowning like baby teeth teetering on a chair
everything is mine
a demise despising your friends.
No one is safe, so I walk at 1am to buy toilet paper.
No one is awake at 1am, so I am safe.
At 1am the way is littered with toilet paper. No one thing is safe.
I am walking my produce home hungry but safe.
Our place is drinking.
Where we have been is our place.