Monday, August 12, 2019

Mr. Asshole. By Dan Provost




It’s a great
justification for 
all those who suffer 
from depression and anxiety
that “getting out of your head”
is the reason you, sometimes,
drink twenty Miller Lights.

Smoke ten pipe hits of the weed.

And take credence that the
world is all right for a while.

No, not really…

The truth is that asshole has crept
into your life again.

Not as often

Not every day…

But he still lingers around the 
Periphery.  Peeking, hiding—
Welcoming back the guilty 
hangover, 

when, while groaning in bed… 
All you want to do is swallow
the bullet—Cursing your existence.

No, I do not make
the cut anymore…

Walking around dazed.

Pondering creative ability
under the influence.

When you have difficulty 
picking up the pen…

Yes, I hate that asshole
who has hounded 
my footsteps for so many
God damn years.

He laughs when I’m
fucked up…grins

when I make a fool of
myself…

Calls me out when
I try to stay sober.

Kills me if
he wins…





Dan Provost has been published throughout the small press for many years.  He is the author of nine books and lives in Berlin, New Hampshire with his wife Laura.

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