2 Whiskeys in Omaha

Stoned Navy man with a glass jaw
sits and sweats. pops pills n blows dope smoke out my window.
We threw the fucker out, he can sleep anywhere but here.
Here is reserved for Whiskeys and and and-

Existential crises has hit 9 months,
on a roll. honorable.
I dreamt I was my pregnant mother,
staggering, grabbing for anything stable and holding
up and onto my bloated kicking belly.
...caffeine and art, would still make me happy.
This was how the conversation spilled,
curdling our minds. Still a clear image
after many months.

Somewhere unbeknownst, behind a run down house
In the peaceful continuity of Ohio
the navy man searches through what was Hopewell.
sweating rocks, His agenda always the same.
My dream has changed --
The Repast of a Lion.