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got drunk last night sorry

by Morgan Boyle

the liquor or the vinegar
finds the new skin on my freshly bitten tongue
and sends the whole raw thing straight to oblivion
used to drink liquor, vinegar no problem
eyes beading tongue coiling
when does my tongue get bit
only noticing the afterward
been biting and biding
feeling like i might heal in spring
ppl feel comfortable talking about
suicide in front of me now
is that a marker of time?
who's that?
who's a time marker?
ever tried to mark time?
on the flat circle
who's gonna get me off?
i mean that in every way
on the bus watching the world blur out
the window but
the bus is stopped and the world is blurring
who is gonna tell my work today i am there tomorrow
who is gonna say
maybe morgan shouldn't work saturdays
maybe morgan on saturdays is
not the best representative of the new york public library brand fingers smell like cigarettes but
what's 5am
what's 5am
5am is tomorrow me looking at the sun rising
tomorrow me in the shower saying no no no
tomorrow so put together and so stupid clean and respectable
now i am dumb stinky drunk swinging deli cheeseburger down the street
i am the blur in this city
there's no blur to the world
it's all crisp to the nines and
thank god it's cold cause
i'd melt into ropes, cotton candy bones
smacked out cheeseburger and it's only 11pm!
ate a bag of funyons thought about god
i am 30
too old for processed onions and the lord
work shift looms and i never texted him back
said i was gonna go home but
swinging thru the next bar
friends and the red lights and more ppl i know are showing up 5am feels palpable now
5am feels like slapping me on the back
poking me in the shoulder
5am running up and down my spine or
am i just shivering in the cold
l train’s outta service and i'm gonna be late tomorrow m train saturday morning moves like me
morning morgan morning m train morning us
together we creak and sway over the williamsburg bridge together we look at the city
together we say a small prayer to the lord we're both too old for (we are not hungover bless us, bless cheeseburgers)
together we look at manhattan take a deep breath
together we rattle underground

Morgan Boyle is a poet from Nebraska currently based in Ridgewood, Queens. Her work can be found in FENCE, HAD, Anti-Heroin Chic and dream boy book club, among other journals, as well as in Peach Mag’s Something Right Here anthology. She can be found on IG @starlight.barking and Twitter @morganlefay777, where she was briefly banned for cyberbullying the moon.

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