What I come home to

This brew is mildly acidic,
Internet access ticket
11/27/2009 19:49:16
an alibi to keep my hands clean,
or really to just provide place in a wavering world.
The fast life takes a breather to
climb in refrigerators in high heels,
to listen to Spanish acoustic guitar.

I lie to myself everyday
about past, present and future
i pray for a Christmas ghost to punch me square
and drag me face down over the raw gravel of reality.
I fit like a grocery store in a nicotine stained princess -
wait what?

This is the hierarchical system of living things,
Russian nesting dolls apart on the floor,
stiff nutcrackers and walnut crumbs.
I kept acorns in an orange bowl
in a hole of the basement ceiling.
call me resourceful, call me crazy
I don't want to starve this winter.
Happy Holidays.