The Weed

the clock struck blindly & two bottles of wine told me to try it. it was up against the door
of the empty men’s room, or in some bushes outside around the corner; the lighting was
very poor. she got the kind of naked that put an end to too much boozing & a month of
masturbation. she whispered, “come on” & i took it as an imperative minus the

two weeks later, she asked jack the bartender my name & tracked me down. she
explained about catholicism & obligation on my front porch.

we married in the back yard & everyone got shitfaced but her; she nursed you upstairs &
when you fell asleep, she sneaked a butt by the bathroom window.

jason mckenzie is the phantom editor at large of Centripetal. he is
gorgeous in mirrors, ugly in eyes, and is quite fond of french kissing
addiction. his poem "I Want Whores" was a finalist in The Crucible's
2004 national poetry contest. if you'd like to tell him off, please email

© 2005 Underground Voices