sábado, 8 de agosto de 2026

David, Alberta and the blood of Brook

 He convinced his superviser that all was well
A week from that day they would never see him again
Things at the meatworks were going bad for him
His hours were reduced, rumours he was lonely

He changed out of his bloodstained gear
The air and darker days spoke to the onset of winter 
Like the beginning of a movie you don't want to watch
He suddenly realized his budget would tighten

He could no longer afford his favorite beer
No longer go to the bar with friends saturday afternoon
Had to ration fuel and junk food
Had to ration anger at vegetarians

He gulped watered down coffee
sipped depression
Rewinding one's trajectory
A specific torture

Empty highway after clocking out
Scattered leftovers from morning's snow
The heart doesn't beat it farts
short lifeless farts

Too many feelings to digest
He pulls into his small rundown cabin
Wood rotting under the white ten year old paint
He turns the key in swift motion

heart farting like pre-diarrea squirts
He turns on the two bar
dives into his sleeping bag
and bathes himself in screenlight

Useless, hopeless consumed by his own darkness
The lonliness so foreign to his dwindling highschool self
It was only two years ago in Edmonton so optimistic
Now friendless and just on broke in Brooks

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