i am looking at you
bull lee
i don't like your life
or work but
i like your story

you just wrote yourself deeper
into that hole
and the abyss stares back at me
when i look at
all your ascetic decadence
your typewriter black eyes

you would not approve me
but you are the forerunner
to all screen printed
irony junkies on greenpoint
taking your parents factory money
to make cutups

no not me

i fail with dignity

i am dreaming of a loft
on kent ave
i didn't take it

you see because it had this multi-tiered
effect we'd have had to climb
on top of the desk and
up a ladder to bed
i lit up when I thought about
how you'd scold me

but your father didn't like brookyln
and it was so far from sixth avenue
and i knew i'd get drunk
and break my goddamn neck

and so i didn't take it
but i dream of that loft
on kent ave