issue65jakechapbook1

                                                       ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM

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I haven’t been
to this bar before.

The girl is the kind
who can’t go too long
without transcendence, she
tilts her head, asks;

“Who are you, where
are you from?”

I tell her I’m a poor
boy from the mainland, that
I’m an addict from a long
line of addicts, that I’m just
yet to pick
out my target.

She smiles, says; “I
know what you mean, I
haven’t found what I
want to do yet, ei-
ther.

Somewhere
in the bar, someone
drops a bottle. The
crash makes her
      hold on to the
       table slightly
                 tighter.

Somewhere
in the night, a young
girl wakes up, goes
         downstairs to find
    a strange man passed
         out naked
                            on her
                              floor.

(George St., St. John’s)