Euphemism and Euthanasia (A eulogy for those hooked)

by Samantha Farley


 

It’s easy to cast

long shadows

and waste

wishful thinking,

blowing evenings

with dollar bills

and long socks—

creepin’

like bandits

up itching ankles—

and burnin’ poemas

into concrete walls

and leg hair.

It’s easy to snort

white lines

and spew

blood and honey—

like masterpieces

of bees’ bums

(honey stomachs)—

painted on subway tiles

in bathrooms

and hidden on handkerchiefs

in lonely pockets

of the Upper East Side.

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